If I Had a Hammer, I'd get to Swear and Sing!

For the second time in the past 12 months, there is construction (and a good bit of destruction) taking place in my house. As I've probably whined about previously mentioned before, home improvements are stressful, on a marriage, on the kids, on the general infrastructure of your entire life. Still, if all goes well, it's worth it in the end to have a new space which you're not embarrassed for friends and neighbors to see. Here's hoping we'll be throwing a Phillies Opening Day kickoff bash in our newly refinished basement come April.

The subject of today's post, however, is not the stress of renovations, or my basement, or even Opening Day. Today I want to tell you why I think I'd like to be a construction guy. Or gal.

This will make no sense whatsoever to my father who knows that I can barely hammer a nail in straight, much less hang drywall. But here's the thing. I've been working at home on a couple occasions since these guys started on my basement, and perhaps unbeknownst to them, I can hear everything they say and do perfectly from the room above. And I gotta tell you, in a strange way, some of it appeals to me. For instance:

• The bad language. I once yelled "what the hell?" at work and it didn't go over big. Probably because I work for a Christian organization. Nevertheless, I think it would be fun to let the potty words fly whenever I felt like it, just like the guys in my basement.
• Singing at the top of my lungs. Is everyone who does construction required to listen to hard rock or heavy metal? Perhaps I'd change the station format, but I like the idea of bursting into song whenever the spirit moves me.
• General "shooting the shit" as my dad would call it. I don't have much opportunity for general chit chat in my job, but then I'm not filling a french drain with loose stones. I imagine I would enjoy imitating the prairie dog from the BBC You Tube video for hours on end ("Alan, Alan, Alan, Al!").

In addition to the sounds, there are few inherent elements in construction that appeal to me:

• The plan. You've got a plan that someone else gives you. All you need to do is take care of your part. I like the idea of someone else creating the plan and only being responsible for the follow through. Of course that assumes I agree with the plan and don't think the planner is a moron.
• At the end of the day, you're done. Aside from the grit and grime, I can't imagine these guys take their work home with them. They're not losing sleep wondering whether the next book they publish is going to sell a sufficient number of copies. They probably don't even have to scour the trade magazines for the next great drywall idea. They do what they can while they're on the job, and then they walk away, or possibly go bowling as my contractor does on Wednesday nights.
• They work their bodies hard. I hardly work my body with the exception of an occasional trip to the bathroom or the clothes dryer. Like my friend Em says, if it wasn't for doing laundry when working at home, we may never leave our desk or chair. And my butt just spread another 2 inches while I typed this. I like the idea of feeling physically exhausted at the end of the day. I might actually fall asleep when I close my eyes, instead of lying there for an hour, worrying about that next book release (see point above).
• A daily sense of accomplishment. I like lists. I particularly like marking stuff off my lists. I like feeling a sense of accomplishment that isn't undone within 30 minutes by an unruly dog or a child. I think putting up a wall, building a staircase, painting, or installing electrical outlets would definitely feed my need for making visible progress.
• You get to wear a hat. And jeans. And ratty sweatshirts. Given my hair issues, wearing a hard hat or a baseball hat could save me a whole lot of angst.

The only problem with my grand plan to become a construction gal is that, as I mentioned above, I can't hammer in a nail straight. Nor can I effectively manage a jack hammer. And I'm afraid of electrical wires. I don't particularly like getting grit in my mouth and ears and nose. Painting becomes tedious. I especially hate cleaning up after my work. And  I also can't visualize finished projects.

Looks like I'm going to need another job where I can swear, sing, and imitate prairie dogs. Oooooh, I've got it! I can be a mom!