Builder Bums

The house we have moved to is a “fixer upper”. We decided to make the bathroom our first job – big mistake! The love interest fell for the patter of a very slick Sikh builder who gave us a medium quote. He promised the bathroom would be replaced in seven days, and only one of those days would be without a shower and loo! Ha! 16 days later and the main builder went home to India yesterday – for a month’s vacation, and his mate disappeared with him. The mate couldn’t speak any English, only Punjabi, and he was the hard worker, with the slick Sikh giving the orders. They fortunately left the old loo connected, but no shower, bath or basin, and cold water only in the kitchen. No electrics either, as they removed the fittings in preparation for the new downlighters. They have also left all their tools – are they expecting us to wait a month til they return? The love interest has also paid them two thirds of the money, as he is a trusting, easy going type of chap, but only about a third of the work is done. So we are falling on the mercy of friends for showering facilities, plus the local tennis and golf clubs, as the love interest needs several showers a day in this humid weather. At least I am in an air conditioned office!

If this is our very first experience with builders, how are we going to cope with the rest. We need new windows, new floors, new kitchen, doors moved, new cloakroom, new shower room off the bedroom, electrics – dystopia looms! And I thought this was going to be fun! I said so! I got the love interest all enthused when we viewed this place! It’s all my fault. Builders are the pits.

I moved last Friday, to a smaller place and my sense of displacement is horrendous. Everything has a slightly surreal feel to it, like my brain is filled with cotton wool. None of the furniture fits the new place, as we have an eclectic ragbag of junk shop finds and inherited bits, all of which will have to go as they are too large for the space. IKEA here we come!
There are packing boxes everywhere, filled with goodness knows what, but mostly stuff the love interest can’t throw out. Who needs five tennis racquets, three golf club sets? What is it with us humans that we need to surround ourselves with clutter.
On the plus side our new neighbours invited us in for a drink and they seem like nice potential friends, – everything else is minus at present, it’s like living a nightmare. I have always liked change, and I guess in a few weeks everything will be fine, but my old rut was just far too comfortable.