Life is But A...Nightmare
Life Is But A...Nightmare
Here is the best piece of advice I could give to anyone who is thinking of building anything, no matter how small or how much it is already built and just needs a space cleared to be put on:
Be utterly and humbly prepared for a lesson in futility.
I have recently been comparing my experience in getting and putting my house here on this property to the experience of thousands of parents who have adopted internationally. Because I work in this profession, it is becoming more and more clear to me how OUT OF CONTROL we are, whether you are trying to create a new home or trying to create a new family. In both circumstances, here is how the process goes:
1. Submit a bunch of paperwork.
2. Sit and wait.
3. Have some head honcho/big titled/VIP-type person sitting in an office somewhere twirling a Bic pen tell you, in a garbled telephone message, that your paperwork is incomplete/incorrect/unacceptable/just plain wrong.
4. Have no one return your telephone calls. For days.
5. Go to the office/agency in person and be sweet and retiring at first, just to get the paperwork completed/ corrected/accepted/just plain right.
6. Sit and wait.
7. Repeat #3, 4, 5, and 6 at least 12 times. Lose your mind at least 11 times. Contemplate homicide at least 521 times.
8. Watch while people with lesser education and life experience than you and who make twice as much money as you control your little stupid life in a timeframe that seems close to all eternity as it walks uphill in a snowstorm through a sea of molasses.
9. Continue to wake up every morning wondering if your life is a dream you keep waking up from, thinking more has been accomplished than actually has and being absolutely no closer to your goal than you were 90 days ago.
Here is the most recent update, written to my friend Lorri in an email on 6/13:
Well...things with the house are...sort of progressing. Not fast enough for me, but I am trying to comprehend HOW these contractors do their work. I could work CIRCLES around these guys, who sit in an excavator and dig shit up all day, and have to have seventeen breaks to scratch their arses, talk on the cell phone, move a clump of dirt, scratch some more, have a snack, move another clump of dirt, scratch again, etc.
The peon contractor, hired by the big head honcho contractor, was supposed to arrive "early" this morning, which ended up being 11:00 am. He worked in an excavator digging up dirt and stumps of trees until 1:45 pm, took a 45 minute lunch break, came back and dug up more dirt and stumps, pushed some other dirt around, dug a trench, dug up some more dirt and stumps, parked the excavator, and is apparently done for the day at 4:30 pm. I don't get that at all. I have no idea if he is coming back tomorrow, but presumably so (however, I have learned to presume nothing in this entire deal). The concrete pad for the house will PRESUMABLY be set next Tuesday. The head honcho contractor showed up to make sure his peon contractor was actually working, so that was nice. The peon contractor actually called the code enforcement officer, who showed up to look around and scratch himself, so that was nice (nice that he showed up, not nice that he scratched).
There is nothing to see here except a big pile of dirt and dead tree stumps, another pile of dirt, and a trench. Oh, and the excavator which is still sitting on the lawn. There is also this other piece of equipment here in front of the garage that looks like a miniature bulldozer, that I would like to take for a drive myself. I can think of at least four orifices in which I would like to park it.
So this is where I'm at. This entire project, from ordering the house until now, has not gone as I expected at all. Today, I expected to have a buttload of people here working this morning, and I get one guy in a piece of equipment, and then this other guy that comes and goes with the dumptruck. It is all very odd. I told Luann (a friend and colleague) this morning that my life is starting to feel very, very surreal. I mean, is this really happening, or is it a dream? Because the pieces and parcels of it never seem to get very far. Fits and starts, like a nightmare I keep waking up from, with very little work done. Maddening.
At least there is a large piece of machinery sitting on the lawn. I'll keep looking at it. Maybe I'll even go touch it to make sure it is real.
And the beat goes on…
Here is the best piece of advice I could give to anyone who is thinking of building anything, no matter how small or how much it is already built and just needs a space cleared to be put on:
Be utterly and humbly prepared for a lesson in futility.
I have recently been comparing my experience in getting and putting my house here on this property to the experience of thousands of parents who have adopted internationally. Because I work in this profession, it is becoming more and more clear to me how OUT OF CONTROL we are, whether you are trying to create a new home or trying to create a new family. In both circumstances, here is how the process goes:
1. Submit a bunch of paperwork.
2. Sit and wait.
3. Have some head honcho/big titled/VIP-type person sitting in an office somewhere twirling a Bic pen tell you, in a garbled telephone message, that your paperwork is incomplete/incorrect/unacceptable/just plain wrong.
4. Have no one return your telephone calls. For days.
5. Go to the office/agency in person and be sweet and retiring at first, just to get the paperwork completed/ corrected/accepted/just plain right.
6. Sit and wait.
7. Repeat #3, 4, 5, and 6 at least 12 times. Lose your mind at least 11 times. Contemplate homicide at least 521 times.
8. Watch while people with lesser education and life experience than you and who make twice as much money as you control your little stupid life in a timeframe that seems close to all eternity as it walks uphill in a snowstorm through a sea of molasses.
9. Continue to wake up every morning wondering if your life is a dream you keep waking up from, thinking more has been accomplished than actually has and being absolutely no closer to your goal than you were 90 days ago.
Here is the most recent update, written to my friend Lorri in an email on 6/13:
Well...things with the house are...sort of progressing. Not fast enough for me, but I am trying to comprehend HOW these contractors do their work. I could work CIRCLES around these guys, who sit in an excavator and dig shit up all day, and have to have seventeen breaks to scratch their arses, talk on the cell phone, move a clump of dirt, scratch some more, have a snack, move another clump of dirt, scratch again, etc.
The peon contractor, hired by the big head honcho contractor, was supposed to arrive "early" this morning, which ended up being 11:00 am. He worked in an excavator digging up dirt and stumps of trees until 1:45 pm, took a 45 minute lunch break, came back and dug up more dirt and stumps, pushed some other dirt around, dug a trench, dug up some more dirt and stumps, parked the excavator, and is apparently done for the day at 4:30 pm. I don't get that at all. I have no idea if he is coming back tomorrow, but presumably so (however, I have learned to presume nothing in this entire deal). The concrete pad for the house will PRESUMABLY be set next Tuesday. The head honcho contractor showed up to make sure his peon contractor was actually working, so that was nice. The peon contractor actually called the code enforcement officer, who showed up to look around and scratch himself, so that was nice (nice that he showed up, not nice that he scratched).
There is nothing to see here except a big pile of dirt and dead tree stumps, another pile of dirt, and a trench. Oh, and the excavator which is still sitting on the lawn. There is also this other piece of equipment here in front of the garage that looks like a miniature bulldozer, that I would like to take for a drive myself. I can think of at least four orifices in which I would like to park it.
So this is where I'm at. This entire project, from ordering the house until now, has not gone as I expected at all. Today, I expected to have a buttload of people here working this morning, and I get one guy in a piece of equipment, and then this other guy that comes and goes with the dumptruck. It is all very odd. I told Luann (a friend and colleague) this morning that my life is starting to feel very, very surreal. I mean, is this really happening, or is it a dream? Because the pieces and parcels of it never seem to get very far. Fits and starts, like a nightmare I keep waking up from, with very little work done. Maddening.
At least there is a large piece of machinery sitting on the lawn. I'll keep looking at it. Maybe I'll even go touch it to make sure it is real.
And the beat goes on…