Boys In The Attic

I am not a big fan of working out of town.

In fact, if I knew what abhor meant I’m sure that would be how I felt about it.

Since I don’t….I will just say it’s poopy to work out of town. I am shacked up in a cheap hotel with 2 of the other guys I work with, roughly 250 miles from home.

While they are engulfed in their 3rd episode of Bizarre Foods America on the Travel Channel, I am looking over photos of the room we have to work with along with the photos of what the customer wants to end up with.

What we have is an attic-

What the customer wants is something similar to this-

Oh yeah….and instead of the crappy attic access pull down stairs they want this-

Complete with computer station underneath.

I still don’t like being out of town…..but the challenges that come along with making dreams reality make it much less poopy.


The Canvas, The Miss & The Click

The Canvas

Remodeling a home helps to create a place where a family can create memories.

It starts as a blank canvas of sorts.

The owner adds the color and depth and atmosphere that they want…instead of what they have.

I am in the business of making a home into a “home sweet home”.

I can help make their dreams a reality.

Their dreams give me nightmares.

But, I love what I do…so I do what I love.

The Miss

Currently, I am working out of town.

3-4 days a week for the next 2 weeks.

Another blank canvas in another town.

Work 12 hours a day. Sleeping on a blow up mattress in an empty house.

All the while, wishing I was at home with my wife and kids.

I’m here.

They are not.

I do what I love….but I do not love being away from them.

Things are happening at home that I only get to hear about but not be part of.

-my daughter can’t find her jacket
-my son is going bi polar over his grounding
-my wife had to give my chihuahua an enema.
-the family huddled in the center of the house, with candles, because of tornado warnings.

Me? I work, eat, sleep.

I talk to my wife on the phone. It’s not the same as being there. Texting is disconnected communication.

I. Miss. Them.

The Click

I quit counting down the hours when I got the news we are staying another day this week.

Part of the customer’s canvas needed to be erased as the dream has altered from the previous dream.

Let the nightmares begin.

If it were as easy as closing my eyes, clicking my heels together 3 times and saying,

“There’s no place like home.”

I would have been home already….

But I don’t have ruby red slippers,

I have 2 pairs of Chuck Taylor’s.


And that stupid witch keeps changing remodeling plans, making it difficult for me to get home.