I’m over renovating. It’s not exciting.
Apparently the middle of a book is the hardest bit the write. I'm currently stuck midway through my first manuscript so I'm inclined to agree. Renovating seems to be the same deal. I'm halfway through and finding myself saying all the same things such as:
- I feel untalented.
- I feel completely void of any original thoughts.
- I don't want to do this any more.
- I actually don't know what I'm doing.
- Why am I doing this?
- I have made a huge mistake
Plus doing up an old house is like opening a very expensive can of worms.
Every time my builder rings, my heart sinks. Not because I don’t like him, he’s still my favourite builder. But every time his name pops up on my mobile, it’s generally because he's come across yet another problem that needs serious attention (and financial investment).
Like the fact that all our lights were unearthed. I didn’t think that was such a bad thing when he told me except apparently it could have caused an accidental death by electrocution.
Or like the fact that our roof tiles are leaking. Which is apparently also quite bad unless you don’t mind your ceiling falling in on top of you further down the track.
Every day brings a new dilemma, decision or major purchase. And mostly because we seem to have been living the last four years in the most dangerous house in the world.
The only thing that keeps me going is the fact that somewhere in a factory in Sydney is a dishwasher with my name on it. A stylish stainless steel dishwasher that only makes 42 decibels of noise.
The mere fact that I've purchased it is enough to make me very excited. Surely that makes all the stress well and truly worth it.
So now when my builder calls, I take a deep breathe and visualise myself stacking the dishwasher and all those extra costs and potentially disastrous household features simply slip through my tense little fingers.
Hopefully that will be enough to get me through the midway slump.
If only it would do the same for my book.