I Should Be Drinking

It's a wonder I am not drinking. 

I keep repeating the description of my living conditions because it affects so much of what goes on in my life.  Hubby and I are building a house and living on the construction site in a little, tiny, miniscule, pint-size trailer with canvas sleeping enclaves.  Did I mention that it was small? 

It's been raining hard all summer and when the rain abates, the heat goes up to close to 40 degrees Celsius (do the math; it's frigging hot).  We have no air circulation besides the tiny trailer windows.

Hubby has it worse than me as he is actually building the house.  He has one more hour on the roof this morning and it is teeming rain.  If he doesn't break his neck it will be a minor miracle but by noon today we should be in the clear.  The roof will be completed and ready for the shingles which he has contracted out.  Anyway, this blog isn't about him, poor guy; it's about me.

Because of the huge amount of physical work involved in building the house, my 66 year old man goes to bed at around 8:30 every night.  I am alone from then until I hit the sack around 10:30 with no TV, bored out of my gourd and spend my time on the internet which makes me feel useless.

I have so much office work to do with regard to changing our rather large construction company from the province we lived in to the one we've moved to.  Everything has to change; even our company name.  In this teeny, weeny trailer, we've set up boxes of files, my laptop, my printer, a modem and the other necessities to run an office that is associated with performing half million dollar construction projects for the Canadian Government buildings.  Every time I think I'm done, more work materializes.

I can't work properly in the heat as it's stifling and the constant rain means that the entire grounds outside are soaked and mired in mud.  I have to leave to run some errands later today and I don't know what to put on my feet that will keep them dry, yet not look too dorky at the business lunch I'm attending.  I'll change in the car, I guess; no biggie.

Procrastination is based on fear of failure.  I am procrastinating with what I need to do lately and feel the fear mounting that goes along with unfinished important work. 

Our cooking apparatus is outside and often I can't even put together a decent meal because of the weather.  When it's stinking hot the flies swarm and when it's raining, there's no shelter strong enough to keep the rain from blowing in.

My friends and family don't understand why we are putting ourselves through this ordeal but it's almost over and I have not taken a drink.

Here is what I should grateful for:

• Hubby and I are truly soul mates and living in this confined space could be a lot worse living with an asshole
• Hubby is looking pretty hot after shedding over ten pounds and getting nice and tanned (superficial me)
• Living here saves us about $1500 per month that is directly going into the building of the house, thus reducing our eventual mortgage
• I work from home and when all is completed with regard to the move, can probably manage to only work for two hours a day leaving the remainder to spend as I please
• Since we are now living close to my grandchildren, I've been able to help them out by babysitting and such; love that!
• We can afford to eat at restaurants whenever we want to
• We have a lovely lake house to escape to on the weekends

Suck it up, Buttercup; get 'er done!  The sooner I stop whining and procrastinating and start plowing through the work at hand, the better I'll feel.  Hubby is holding up his end of the bargain and I must do the same.  No one ever died from a little hard work in uncomfortable conditions.

As I was sitting in the sweltering heat a few evenings ago nibbling on barbequed ribs and sipping a cool drink with flies buzzing around my face, I had the presence of mind to remind myself that three quarters of the world's population would envy me; not pity me. 

We have shelter, food, water and enough money.  Most don't.