Patience. I don’t think it’s a Hallinan strong suit.
A few days ago, I remarked to myself that it had been a whole month since I was last at war with my nemesis Issaga over some kind of maintenance issue in my apartment. Foolish me, I should have known that as soon as this thought stream crossed my brain that I’d be forced into a new chapter of interaction with him. Stupid Murphy.
So Saturday morning: I wake up and Lake Dakar has taken over my kitchen floor.
Sigh.
Using my deductive reasoning, I easily assess the problem but am annoyed that I don’t have the requisite tools to fix the leak myself. My sink is now out of commission, and after a little French vocab confirmation on wordreference.com, I call Issaga to let him in on my newest apartment casualty. He says that no one can come during the weekend, but that he’d have a plumber here first thing on Monday morning.
Inch’allah, I think to myself.
Issaga has never inspired confidence, and true to my Pavlovian expectation of him, there is no sign of a plumber so far. Rinsing dishes in my bathtub is getting old quickly- especially since I know that said bathtub also has a leak and is slowly crumbling the wall in my guest bedroom. The take home lesson from all of this? You are never done with anything; life is one long-ass construction project.
I’m not sure how old I was when I finally had this grand epiphany, but the revelation was pretty powerful. Up until then, I had just assumed that my life was composed of mini-finish lines that would each yield some kind of completion certificate- never to be revisited again.
Wrong. School? You can graduate, but it’s not like you are done learning- the tests just continue in a less structured manner. Getting married? Starting a new job? Buying a car? No written rule exists stating that once you check these boxes off, you are “done” and can now coast towards your retirement home. There is always something more to be done. The house will flood, you’ll move in and out cars and relationships….essentially you are always in a state building and rebuilding- brick by brick.
Do you know what this is? It’s a form sitting by the side of my road. When I first saw it, all I could think was “Oh my God” as I recognized the tedium of mixing, pouring and popping out hundreds of concrete blocks that will build a miles-long barrier down the middle of a road that stretches into downtown.
Workers have already started to lay the barrier- a long process indeed. They are nowhere near done, but I think that the only way to keep your sanity in such a large project is to just keep your head down and chip away till its done. At least that’s how I prefer to do things.
It’s kind of like bricklaying- which I have not only attempted- but have watched from afar as my Dad completed his mammoth lighthouse project. He must have more patience than me- I would never have consciously undertaken such a painstaking enterprise.
But maybe I do have more patience than I am giving myself credit for. I might be negatively inclined to build a lighthouse or a road barrier with my own two hands, but I am crazy enough to ask if I can live in a place that presents simple logistical challenges every day. The key to succeeding in this life thing as an ever-evolving project is to never make it boring. Even as you sit around and wait for your unfaithful maintenance man to come by and take your life off of pause.
Incidentally, I just called Issaga for the third time this morning. He now says that the plumber will be here at 4pm.
La guerre continue, one battle at a time.