Living through a remodel can be a humiliating experience. Today was by far the worst - probably one of the most embarrassing things I have ever done.
The morning started off great. I got ready and dressed and out the door. That is quite a feat seeing as I have a bathroom with a working toilet but no sink, shower or door. We have a trailer to take a shower in, but that involves getting dressed enough to walk by the two workers and back in the house. I got ready in the bedroom that has a door but no window coverings, I scooted myself into the way back corner and got dressed out of sight, I hope. I left my yellow house in my yellow sweater on a crisp and beautiful Fall day, off to meet at the hall with the Moldovans. The kitchen was off limits too, so add hungry to my tired state, but with the weather and my sweater and my eyebrows all plucked, I was feeling pretty good.
It was all OK until my buddy Daniella asked how I was. Good, a little tired but good. Then Elena came up and asked that same innocent question. Tired, really tired, but good, was my reply. Then the tears came. There is nothing quite so pathetic as tired tears. They come out just like sad tears, but they are just so hard to justify. Vladimir came up to say hello, by this time I was in full-out crying mode, tears rolling down the mascara I'd finally had an occasion to wear. Then I had to tell Peter that I couldn't take his wife and Larissa with me this morning. The worst part was sitting in my car, sobbing like I just lost my house in Hurricane Sandy, but only being able to say, I'm just so tired. Telling that to Peter, a man who was once in prison for not joining the Soviet army, just made the whole thing more pathetic so I had to cry even more.
My memory as I drove out the parking lot was the chins dropping of all the people who think I'm Super Jessica. Then the text messages came. We love you, Jessica. More tears. Soon after I got home, what did Igor and Rafaela arrive with? Flowers from Trader Joes and of course then I cried again. Even with my tear-stained eyes, I knew I had to get out of the house. (Ernst agreed, and so did the two workers.) I called some friends who live five doors down and they let me hang out with them all day. We visited some people with problems far worse than being tired from working on their new house. Now I have to get my Super Jessica cape out from wherever I packed it because tomorrow I see all the Moldovans again. I'll put on waterproof mascara this time.
The morning started off great. I got ready and dressed and out the door. That is quite a feat seeing as I have a bathroom with a working toilet but no sink, shower or door. We have a trailer to take a shower in, but that involves getting dressed enough to walk by the two workers and back in the house. I got ready in the bedroom that has a door but no window coverings, I scooted myself into the way back corner and got dressed out of sight, I hope. I left my yellow house in my yellow sweater on a crisp and beautiful Fall day, off to meet at the hall with the Moldovans. The kitchen was off limits too, so add hungry to my tired state, but with the weather and my sweater and my eyebrows all plucked, I was feeling pretty good.
It was all OK until my buddy Daniella asked how I was. Good, a little tired but good. Then Elena came up and asked that same innocent question. Tired, really tired, but good, was my reply. Then the tears came. There is nothing quite so pathetic as tired tears. They come out just like sad tears, but they are just so hard to justify. Vladimir came up to say hello, by this time I was in full-out crying mode, tears rolling down the mascara I'd finally had an occasion to wear. Then I had to tell Peter that I couldn't take his wife and Larissa with me this morning. The worst part was sitting in my car, sobbing like I just lost my house in Hurricane Sandy, but only being able to say, I'm just so tired. Telling that to Peter, a man who was once in prison for not joining the Soviet army, just made the whole thing more pathetic so I had to cry even more.
My memory as I drove out the parking lot was the chins dropping of all the people who think I'm Super Jessica. Then the text messages came. We love you, Jessica. More tears. Soon after I got home, what did Igor and Rafaela arrive with? Flowers from Trader Joes and of course then I cried again. Even with my tear-stained eyes, I knew I had to get out of the house. (Ernst agreed, and so did the two workers.) I called some friends who live five doors down and they let me hang out with them all day. We visited some people with problems far worse than being tired from working on their new house. Now I have to get my Super Jessica cape out from wherever I packed it because tomorrow I see all the Moldovans again. I'll put on waterproof mascara this time.
