I don't bake anything that requires me to flour a surface. Baby powder puts a kink in my neck. And the idea of snorting cocaine is so unsettling. Dusty particles that get EVERYWHERE put me into a mental state so strenuous, I have knots in my shoulders for days after.
As I type, there are construction workers in my home wreaking havoc with my psyche. I'm having a wall replaced with windows in my family room. It's a project I've been wanting to do since we moved into the house 9 years ago and it's going to be beautiful when it's done. In the meantime, I'm losing my mind!
Yesterday was phase one. The brick wall on the outside of the house had to be removed and rebuilt in the configuration of the windows. In order to do this, the mason sawed and chipped and chiseled and hammered, and with every blow, blew fine gray grout and fine red brick dust through every nook and cranny. At one point, I had to squint through the haze INSIDE my house. I would have started hyperventilating but that would have been completely counter productive. Instead, I ran upstairs to the farthest room in the house and shoved my face in a pillow. When the smoke cleared, literally, there was a fine powder over EVERYTHING. I stopped breathing altogether and just left the house. Of course, with picking up the dog from the kennel (we were away for the weekend) and taking my daughter to ballet, I didn't get home until after my husband - my husband, who doesn't care and certainly doesn't notice dust, so there he was sitting in it, eating on it, living with it.... I ran upstairs again, this time to shower off the day.
Today the job should be completed, but I'm already getting the "we've run into a snag" speech so I'm preparing myself mentally for more days of torture (which is just my way of saying, I'm researching nearby psych wards). Today, they are cutting out the inside wall which will mean drywall dust. They've draped the area so less dust will fill the house but let's be honest, dust doesn't discriminate. It spreads itself equally and freely.
I'm having chest pains.
Tomorrow is Maritza's day to clean. I think I'll ask her to start in the family room. She usually starts in the master bath, but I'm going to be in there, showering away the real - and psychological - dust of the last two days.