A Summer of Small Joys and Strong Boundaries

 

 

Last week was fantastic!

Delicious food, long morning walks along the river, and small sweet treats. Summer vibes were everywhere: bright sunshine and smiling people. Everything felt lighter, and my desire to experience more was in full swing. You do not need anything extraordinary to feel excited. Sometimes, it is enough to sit on a bench for a couple of minutes and simply breathe.

My little boy is finally back at kindergarten, so my days feel lighter too.

However, while one part of my week was calm and carefree, another was far more frustrating. Everything had been going well until our patience finally ran out.

The workers renovating our house were moving painfully slowly, for no clear reason. Jobs that could and should have been completed within a few days were taking more than a week. We had been very patient, but then we suddenly found out that we were paying the workers by the day rather than a fixed price for the job.

We found that absurd. First, this had never been agreed with us. Second, it explained why the work was progressing so slowly.

On top of that, the quality did not meet our standards. And by standards, I mean basic things, such as a wall being straight instead of having a five-centimetre difference over a distance of three metres.

We had a difficult conversation with the contractor. I usually stay out of these discussions and let Veni handle them because he is studying construction and understands the technical side better than I do. This time, however, it was different.

To earn the money for this house, I worked throughout the whole of March without stopping. I worked even when I was ill and when my child was ill. I did not take a single day off, not even at weekends. April was a tough month for me, and May was not much easier. My health paid the price, and now my mornings begin with a handful of pills.

That is why I spoke up.

I pointed out everything that had not been done properly. I explained how the workers spent half the day sitting around. I also said that they had not been given proper protective clothing or more specialised equipment that could save both time and manual labour.

As I continued speaking, the contractor stepped back, and his tone suddenly became calmer. I did not shout. I remained objective and sincere.

I do not mind paying a fair price, even a high one, but I expect quality and real work in return. The workers could stay there for months doing work that should take a week simply because they are not being properly motivated to finish it.

I know how much all of this has cost me. This is the first home that has my name on it, and nobody is going to make a fool of me or treat my hard-earned money as if it means nothing.

At the moment, I am doing my best to enjoy my days and evenings. I work less than before, wake up early to exercise, and eat food that is both tasty and healthy. Soon, I will be working from 9 a.m. until 8 p.m., and I know I will not have much time for anything else.

This summer, I want to enjoy the small moments. But I also want to remember that protecting my standards is part of protecting the life I am trying to build.