My days pass in a blur as the labour zooms around the house, taking down walls, cementing the holes, ripping off floors and putting on new ones. The dust that plagues the house has now become a constant companion. So everyday as I step out of the bath, I am greeted by a large cloud of cement dust, which does not stop from roughing up newly conditioned hair.
If you think sitting in a locked room is cleaner still, the condition worsens with the bed clogging with dust, the floor turning from a smooth white to a mucky brown. The whole air around the house is filled with the nauseating aura of cement, machinery and rocks.
I valiantly survive each day, eagerly waiting for the end result where the house will look all new and shiny.