Wednesday 5 February 2014

I Need A Vacation

I had another bad night last night; I'm finding I have more bad nights than good ones, more nights where I wish it was just all over, that this stupid disease would simply be done with me. It was one of those nights where the frustration of how I am forced to live, the distress of a failing body, bends around me like steel bars, holding me prisoner in what remains of my life.

My problems with last night started during the day, dealing with the renovations, what can be done and what cannot be done, what Jim will do for me and what he won't do. Jim works for free and any complaining would seem ungrateful. Yet his work style and work speed are difficult for me. He is a night person, staying out until well past midnight and not getting out of bed until 11:00 AM in the morning. He is difficult to get along with for the first hour; he needs to sit and have his coffee while he slowly gets his body up to speed.

I, on the other hand, even in my tired state, am usually awake by 9:00 AM although there are plenty of days when 10:00 AM still sees me resting in bed. Getting up earlier than Jim gives me time to sort my thoughts, write my blog and have a coffee. So by the time he is up, I am usually well into my day, or at least a bit into my day.

Jim's work speed is good; when he does something he doesn't waste a lot of time. His work day, on the other hand, is short. Usually Jim starts at around noon and calls it quits at 4:00 PM. He has been very clear that I am not to bug him or get in his way; I can't help anyways. Apparently everyone in the world thinks I am a micro-manager except me. As he is quick to point out, he can always go home and I will have to hire someone to finish the work.

I, on the other hand, tend to want to work much longer than that, seeing the things undone and frustrated by my inability to do them. So by the time he is done with his day, I am exhausted and frustrated through no fault of his, but rather through my own limitations. I know it would go so much faster with another pair of hands, but any offer I can give is simply in his way by virtue of this damnable wheelchair. I am at the mercy of others, unable to care for myself.

On top of all of this frustration, I am working with other contractors to try to get a bathroom I want. It's expensive, more expensive than you can imagine for a simple bathroom. The reason for the expense is simple; because I live in a multi-unit building, not a detached home, everything has to be done by certified professionals and with permits, and the resultant inspections, from the city. Trust me, the city is fussy on this stuff, so it takes longer to even get things moving, let alone get things done. One estimate came in yesterday with a minimum of six weeks work time and almost $15,000. He recommended I get a second mortgage to pay for the work.

After all of this, a process as exhausting as you can imagine for me, I went out to trivia. It was one of those nights were the game was slow, the room was crowded and I was just worn out. I had to go to the bathroom halfway through, necessitating a lift up the steps and out of the trivia room. Then I had to ask the staff for a container because I forgot my jug and their handicapped toilet is not wheelchair accessible. After that I was just so tired I wanted to give up. So I went home.

I am meeting with another contractor this morning, one who I hope will work on a more timely schedule and with a more reasonable budget. I suspect I am dreaming about this. After all, I live in Calgary. We had a flood last year and most contractors are still going gangbusters on that work. My problem is not their problem; it's how they make money, a lot of it.

Mostly I am just tired of all this. I need a vacation.

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