We still don’t live in our home, but we seem to be in the home stretch. I booked movers for May 19. Charlie told our builder he is on clock. Our builder said something to the effect of “doing his best.” Charlie explained that the crazy wife is done. She’s moving home. He suggested he have a certificate of occupancy, because otherwise, the builder is going to have to deal with me. Charlie refuses to deal with me any more regarding my crazy fits over this house. He cannot be blamed.
Although I suspect Charlie has a mild case of Stockholm syndrome. I think he’s begun to identity with our captors, all the construction people, and seems to be sympathetic to *their* plight dealing with me.
People try to say comforting things like, “It’s all gonna be worth it once you move home, and it’s so much nicer.” But no, it won’t be worth it. A new kitchen is just not great enough for all this hassle. It has taken a very real psychological toll on my whole family. We’re cooked, fried, over it, done, finished.
After a year of insanity, we are finally in the countdown: 33 days.