This is supposed to be a sort of diary. Recently I should have commemorated or at least signalled another year of blogging activity and I let the occasion pass. I’ve been too busy to notice dates. Even now I am writing without really knowing what I am writing about. Apparently, there’s a part of me that is not working properly. Having said that, let’s move to what I am eventually writing about.
My life is a bit harder than it used to be. I lost two people working in my house for a decade. Knowing that I’ll get used to new faces around, I am not sure if I have the right substitutes yet.
I helped someone to write an autobiography. The book is finished. As he wants to be self-editor, I can say my work is almost done. That side of my life is finally on track.
Let’s see why part of me is not working as it should… It has to be the outdoors makeover and I kind of know why. Part of my numbness was predictable. I’ve been closely involved in construction jobs before and I know the stress and excitement during the last days of work. To be successful things have to happen with precision and here there’s no room for that. Let’s just say the last players aren’t playing that well.
Even so, expected difficulties cannot be the truly reason of how I feel. That reason lies with the fact that I am too perfectionist to tolerate the continuous mistakes I have to accept with a: ‘Weeelllll, it’s not that bad. We can do this and that about it.’ The champion of mistakes is bricklayer Luís. Most of the mess is his fault and we have become an army just working to cover it.
I shouldn’t really worry. One of these days things will be back to normal. Mistakes or no mistakes.