My Hovel, My Home: Fitful Progress

An original advertisement from our neighborhood hangs on the wall of a local museum.  Among the highlights listed, the ad boasts “two wall heaters.”  Really, it’s just one heater with a side facing the living room and the other facing a bedroom hallway.   We’ve lived for the last 16 years with this 1950’s wall heater and no air conditioning. People look at us like we’ve been living in the stone ages when they find out.

It is finally time to tear out the wall heater and install heating and air conditioning ducts for a new furnace and air conditioner.  Our contractor tells us the job will to take “four days.”   What he fails to mention is that the subcontractor is doing our house as a “side job” and only comes on weekends and evenings.   Four days is an optimistic estimate anyway, and the job ends up stretching out over more than a month.   

Having the HV/AC installed on weekends and evenings means my husband misses most of our boys’ sporting events so he can stay home to monitor the job.  We also spend several evenings with my husband holding the flashlight while the HV/AC guy is up in the attic working as dinner gets cold.   At this point, we’ll do anything to help get the job done.  Being indignant is a waste of our energy and
time.

The HV/AC fails its first inspection (no tears this time, I’m a seasoned veteran now).   It finally passes inspection just in time for a cold snap. We turn on the new furnace and nothing happens.  We spend a week bundled up and putting as many covers on our boys’ beds as possible before the sub-contractor can tear himself away from his day job to come and fix the problem.

With the HV/AC finally working, we can have drywall installed at long last!  The contractor sets an appointment to meet with us on a weekday afternoon at 2pm to bring his crew and plan for next steps.  We re-arrange our schedules so we can be home to meet him.  Two o’clock comes and goes with no contractor appearing.  By seven o’clock, we assume he’s not coming and start eating dinner on our front porch. 

The contractor pulls up as we sit down to eat.   We’re frustrated
at the way he disrespects our time and annoyed at his late arrival, but we
hastily eat dinner and join him inside. We’ll endure any inconvenience if it means the project is moving forward.  He lays out the plans for the coming week and
assures us a full crew will arrive first thing in the morning to get started on
the drywall.

No one comes the next day or for the rest of the week. The contractor can’t be reached by phone, text or e-mail.  We feel utterly helpless.  We vacillate between being completely jaded/ cynical/ furious and being apathetic/ despondent/ discouraged.   Most days we are too drained to feel any
emotion whatsoever. 

The contractor finally resurfaces and work resumes fitfully.  One day there are four people, who come at 10 am, the next one shows up at noon.  Supplies aren’t being delivered and workers mill around with little to do.  The situation isn’t exactly reassuring.  Every day when no one shows up to work is a day more we go without a kitchen.   

For a fleeting moment we consider hiring someone new to finish the job.  However, we’re held back by our own sense of loyalty (which sounds misguided, considering the way he treats us.)  Besides that, we’ve given our current contractor money for materials that have not yet arrived.  We realize too late that it would have been much wiser to have paid the vendors directly.  The urgency to keep the job progressing has clouded our judgment.    All we can do now is trust him to keep his word.  Stopping to find new contractor and most likely spending even more money feels too daunting at this point.

We continue to learn that control is an illusion that exists when life goes as expected.  I’m trying to combat feelings of helplessness.  Some days I clean my car until it's spotless to compensate for my frustration with our filthy
house.   Other days, I have exaggerated explosions of anger over minor things. The emotions vent whether I want them to or not.  I spend as much time away from home as possible; being there is maddening.  I can’t process the variety of emotions I’m feeling; avoiding them seems the easiest way to cope some days.

We ask ourselves what we are supposed to be learning and how we’re supposed to be growing.  Many times the answers elude us, but we trust that clarity will come in time.  And maybe, one day, we’ll even have a finished house to enjoy.