The Most Stressful, Horrible Adulting Thing I’ve Ever Done

For the last 22 months, I’ve been busy building a new house. Like from scratch, waaayyyy up in the mountains near Rocky Mountain National Park. During that period of never ending stress and physical labor, I didn’t have time to write fun stories or snarky blog posts. Hell, I didn’t even have plumbing.

My husband taking a break from lumberjacking.

What I did have was an acre and a half, a 10×12 uninsulated “hunters cabin”, and a very determined and patient husband. And no kids. We don’t have kids. We could never have done this if we had kids.

In January of last year, already 7 months into the build even though no actual building had begun, we moved into the “cabin”. It was a high of 8 degrees that weekend. We hunkered down with space heaters and an electric blanket, and dug in for the long haul.

Where we lived for 8 months, and my soon to be renovated writing studio

Everything was a nightmare. What was supposed to be a 4-6 month build turned into 22 months, 257 days of which we spent just trying to get a building permit. The whole thing was horrible. We had a project manager who we had to fire and start court proceedings against, budget overruns, contractor’s who don’t know what they’re doing; it goes on and on. And a builder who lied lied lied to us.

The day I got our permit. You can see all the feels in my eyes.

If building a home is a dream of yours, consider yourself warned. The single most important thing to know is that it will be a shit show. It will. Do not doubt this absolute truth. Go into this kind of project with open eyes and realistic timelines. And above all remember, NO ONE is going to look out for you like you will. Don’t trust anyone completely. Contractors are a super shady bunch.

Finally finished.

In the end my home is beautiful and it’s just the right size for me, the husband, and our two small dogs. It was worth 8 months without indoor plumbing. It was worth freezing my tushy off for 5 or those 8 months. It was worth the headaches of babysitting grown men (contractor’s and subs). It was worth it all so I could turn that hunters cabin into my writing studio She Shack.

But I’d never do it again. Ever.

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