In which you find out what nutcase I really am.

I’m tired. I desperately want to go back to my own house, my own bed. It’s been a month now, and I’m seriously fed up.

The house is not ready and I honestly don’t believe it will be ready tomorrow, as they are saying. The cleaning company will, however, start cleaning tomorrow, whether or not the men are still there.
This morning we went there before coming to work and this brazilian guy was finishing tiling the bathroom. Some of the tiles were not exactly aligned (mind you, these are not big tiles, these are those tiny, 4cm tiles so their bound not to be perfectly aligned) and Zé Maria decided to call the architect and tell him he was unpleased about it. I went nuts, my blood started to boil and I nearly killed him. I couldn’t believe he was actually going to risk the architect (who is almost as anal as he is) having all the tiling removed and re-done just because a few of the fucking tiles are not perfectly aligned. The architect is there now, assessing the damage, and I am praying that he thinks it’s nothing (as I do, honestly) and can convince Zé Maria that it will not be noticeable in the overall picture (which it will not, I’m sure).
In 4 years of marriage, I don’t think I have ever been so angry at him. I guess that shows just how desperate I am hun?

I see his point really. We are staying at the beach house until the 15th and since we weren’t able to move back into the house when we came back from Brazil, it doesn’t really make a difference now, as long as it’s ready by the 15th. But somehow, that just doesn’t make me feel any better. I want the house to be ready now. The cleaning people are coming in tomorrow and if the tiling is re-done the house will be all dirty again after they leave and then I’ll have to clean it myself. And even if I’m not staying there, I want my house back.

It may be the hormones, or the back pain, or nesting instinct unsatisfied, but I feel I’m constantly on the verge of tears and I am seriously convinced that if my house is not ready by the time we come back from the beach house, I will be risking a depression. I know this sounds petty and ridiculous to everyone else but I’m seriously crying right now.