The livingroom is like a safe haven. Except for the animals' toys, bedding, etc., (an an occasional tool), it's the one place currently unaffected by all the madness inside This D*mn House.
I've said this before, but it bears repeating: Working on a house while simultaneously living in it sucks. Hands down, it's one of the worst things one can endure long-term. Or at least it is for me. Home is supposed to be a place to escape to not escape from. And, with the latest round of work well into a third month, it's starting to take its toll on me.
Makes me just want to stay right here on this loveseat and not dare venture anywhere else in the house.
OK. Not like that is going to happen, but it doesn't keep me from wanting it. There's a whole lot of pride that goes into being able to say you did something yourself and in doing things in your home where you surround yourself with your handiwork. In fact, there's a great deal to be said for that kind of satisfaction.
Even so, it can come at a great cost somedays. It wears on you physically, mentally, and emotionally. Throw in a full-time job -- a job in which every burner is full and pots are boiling over -- and it can get to be too much in a hurry. (If you've ever undertaken a huge or multiple DIY projects simultaneously, you know EXACTLY what I mean. You've been there.)
So, as I pull my sorry ass from bed this morning, I'm already repeating the mantra: It will get done. It will look great. It will all be worth it.