I do not wish to speak too loudly but I think there is every danger that when I get home tomorrow the effing house will be finished. It's all over bar the sanding and the big row over money. It was supposed to be finished a fortnight ago but then there was a big row, all the doors were torn out and started again, and that I did not stove anyone's head in with a bucket of readimix cement was a wonder and a miracle. Of course, now the fucking roof leaks and I am skint, potless, wonga-free, pockets bare, skint.
Still, I have an exciting weekend of hoovering up the dust, washing everything clean of the dust, waiting until it dries and then starting the process again. Also repainting the two rooms I had painted because removing the doors screwed everything up again.
In conclusion: aaaaaaaargh.