The place is giant. It will be grand when we are done.
The movers were slick and they were sweet. Huffed and puffed all our gear up the 2 flights of stairs with nary a complaint. Zillions of boxes, chairs, bikes (3!), couch, futon, etc. They carried it all in and carted away the empties I could zip though while they were still here.
And then they left.
The nerve. After all that TLC with the packing and the moving, we are now faced with the cruel reality of trying to piece it all together here with 90% of our furniture not yet here, and wardrobes to build and a bathroom to finish.
And so many millions of boxes.
Mark is a total trooper and is relentlessly hard working and can do in his approach.
He is in his element of constructing and creating and pounding and sawing and figuring things out. I am 100% out of my element. I can hold things and paint and help but I have not only 0 skills in the DIY dept, I am bored beyond tears by it and want to run away. Fast. And tell me when it is done.
So I am a little crabby. And a lot tired. And waiting until it is my turn. Beauty and order can only happen after the creation is done. And until then, I am trying to exercise patience. And failing.