You're going at a steady clip.
Then slam on the brakes.
Then you inch along.
Sometimes you're at a complete stand still.
Then, a break comes and you actually make it up to a steady stream of 25 mph.
Then you slow down again.
Yep, that's what we're doing.
The woodwork is done. Doors hung, trim, windows...all done.
And I feel like a driver in rush hour traffic.
I know the destination I want to get to.
But I'm stuck miles away.
Sometimes I'm fine sitting still. I look around at the other "drivers" and smile and wave.
Other times, I'm shaking my fists and uttering kid-friendly "cuss" words like:
This is a bunch of ballyhoo!
Right now, Dave is trying to decide whether or not to hire a painter to come in and finish the wood.
I'm in on the decision as well, of course.
But, this woodwork is his baby.
He's spent the last 8 months working on it.
This house will essentially be his portfolio.
If a painter messes up the stain...well, that would be bad.
Very, very bad.
(Don't even get me started on the issue we had with the drywallers!)
I just want it done.