The Albanian builders have started a turf war in my kitchen. The hostilities broke out suddenly. One minute the builders were building and the plumber was plumbing and the next minute the builders were shouting at the plumber and the plumber was looking helplessly at me to intervene, only I couldn’t intervene because a) the builders were shouting in Albanian, and b) I would have no idea what they were on about if they were speaking English because it was something to do with the floor and the radiators and the gap for the patio doors in millimetres — about which I know precisely nothing.
I’ve watched those Grand Designs shows a thousand times and cursed at the screen whenever a woman has declared herself project manager of her own build. ‘Ludicrous!’ I always shout at the TV set.
And now that I’ve been forced to project-manage the renovation of my own house, since the builder boyfriend left, I can confirm that my prejudice was absolutely bang on.
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