Yes, building a house is like having a newborn. It's exhausting. I don't sleep much. I haven't had time to write in far too long.
My current house is a mess and I can't tell you the last time I put on clothes that didn't smell like sawdust or have dirt stains on them. It's just not worth the effort of putting on nice clothes because inevitably I'll get a call that requires me to run over to the house and get dirty.
If I don't hear from my subcontractors about the house, I start to worry. Yet, at the same time, I'm wishing there were a few less things that required my attention so I could have a night to relax now and then. When I do get an hour here or there to relax, I just want to sleep. Or do laundry, or one of the countless other things I don't have time for between work, sleep, eat, and house.
I've cleaned up enough sand, sawdust and lumber scraps to equal the fun of changing diapers, but at least the house hasn't pissed on me yet. There's always tomorrow.
Yes, it will all be worth it in the end. I keep telling myself that and dream of my writing room. And then I realize how much work is still ahead of us and the exhaustion kicks back in.
Hopefully, if all goes well (there have been four delays already) this time, insulation will begin next week and then drywall. We're doing some basement ceiling insulation ourselves, but other than that, we get to sit back and supervise for most of those two steps. After running all the electrical and networking, and the security system, supervising for a bit sounds really darn good.
I bought a book today. That was probably overly optimistic of me, but I'd really like to read it. Eventually. When I can keep my eyes open and concentrate on something for more than ten minutes.
Until then, it's house and stalking my submissions tracker. And sleeping. Wonderful sleep. The hours we share are too short.