Starting to Finish

view from the back

Lately, time seems to be going so fast.  As close as we are, all my lists are starting to cross pollinate in my brain.  We are turning into whirlwind consumers these days, as the hypothetical decisions of the past months are coming down to the wire.  I drift off to sleep with images of major appliances in my head, and wake up mentally comparing towel racks.  Our credit card is in tatters.

shut the front door

 I catch myself muttering perseveratively -brushed nickel!  mail slots!  fluorescent, no halogen, 18 inch...12 inch, no 24 inch... while wandering around hallways.  I have become the remodeling equivalent of a bag lady, with the quasi-homelessness for added authenticity.  My colleagues have gradually learned to avoid asking me about the house, lest they set off a tirade about the latest snafu at the lighting store or the 36 inch cabinet that I drove 70 miles to pick up.   I bitch incessantly to my family about the terrible hardship of finding the right porch tiles.  Even David, my partner, has moments of poorly hidden embarrassment as I whip out my measuring tape  (a now constant fixture in my purse) on our recent trip to Ikea.  "um, Evi?  the dimensions are written right here."  I wish I could help myself, but I can't.

pondering cabinet hardware

choosing exterior color

Once I get immersed into something, it's hard for me to extricate myself mentally.  I was still flipping through those awful bridal magazines for months after I got married.  Not because I wanted to, but because I couldn't resist the compulsion.  I'm sure some of that will linger, even after we move back in.  But I'm also anticipating that the death grip of these obsessions on my psyche will slowly loosen and allow our normal lives to seep back in.    Even the friendly carpet guy, who showed us samples out of his trunk early this morning, said reassuringly "you know it's almost done when you're at this stage."  Thanks carpet guy.  Music to my ears.