Construction Zone, Part 2

In the DC area it's rather common for people to remodel or add to their houses rather than upgrading to a bigger or newer model because land (and proximity to the city) are in short supply. I have recently been reminded that I would never survive a remodel if I were ever to attempt such a thing. Andrew painted the bathroom and hallway last week, and even though these are the two most sparsely furnished rooms in our house, displaced belongings filled the narrow walkways to our bed. The disorder lasted on a week or two, but it makes my insides itch. I avoided being in the house when possible and tried to look forward to the pretty walls to come.

I think I've always been a neat person. At one point, when my brother and I needed to share a bedroom for several months, I remember stretching a jump rope across the floor to show him where his belongings could sit (on his side) and where they could not sit (on my side). And I've continued to prefer my surroundings to be orderly. (Those who have shared housing with me may prefer choicer terms, perhaps referencing psychological classifications, but this isn't, after all, their blog.) So, if we were ever to remodel our home, I think I would have to leave on a very long trip and not return until every scrap of leftover lumber was removed.