I have at long last started construction on our very own Fortress of Solitude, the master bedroom on the third floor. After slogging down the aisles of the corporate money pit better known as The Depot, I dragged twenty-four 2x4s up two flights of stairs, stole a piece of chalk from Sam, and started to lay out the walls.
I renovated our Connecticut house for three months straight before we could even move into it. This situation is nicer, but more difficult. There were no distractions in Connecticut. Not even Leah was around every night, as it wasn’t safe for her to be around so much dust and mold. This time around, the entire family, the TV, the refrigerator, computer, and guitar are less than a 30 second stroll away.
My friend Corey bought a house before I did. His one piece of advice was to estimate the amount of time I thought a project would take, and multiply by 4. That would be the real timeline to completion. I called him a tool.
I was wrong.
Corey’s Construction Corollary to Murphy’s Law holds true every time. I’ve tried to tell others of this little gem. No one ever believes until they start demolishing their own walls. Everyone in the club just stands back and sniggers, while the new inductees struggle with their mortal limitations.
My master bedroom project would, in a perfect world, be finished in two months. I will finish around October. I have a strong suspicion that we will be moving up there long before I actually finish the work.
