We’re in the final stages of turning an old Baron’s Estate into a top-notch vacation accommodation, and I’m super happy that the finish line is in sight for two reasons.
The first reason is that we have 16 guests showing up April 13. We’re ready for them. The place is fantastic. I’m sure they’re going to love it.
The water is in the pool and finally eerything is working right. Sheesh!
The second reason that I think I’m starting to lose my mind.
I’m sick and tired of making decisions, figuring things out, working like a dog, and otherwise being completely consumed by the project. I’m sure I’ll look back at what our team has accomplished in a year or so, and it will be rewarding, but for now I just want it done.
This occurred to me on Wednesday last week when I had to manually maintain our external water system levels in order to get the swimming pool filled. This involved switching on and off a couple $%%#^& pumps in order to keep a couple $#@(*& storage tanks from effin exploding while at the same time allowing the water to continue flowing into the &^%$# pool so the water levels were high enough for the ^^)*$% pool technician to make the final adjustments on the *^%$ circulation system that’s way too ^%@&* complicated than it needs to be.
The whole GD system is supposed to be automated, but the off switches stopped working and a valve blew. So, for 10 hours each day for two (*)% days, I became the automation system, checking tank levels and switching the pumps on and off every 10 to 15 minutes.
Each time I flipped those switches this happened in my brain:
So, you had to expand to a new location, eh? Nice work Jake. So, you had to be the guy to move to Italy and open a tourism business? So smart Rupert. So, we can get a project that would normally take a year in Italy done in three months, eh, tough guy. Nice work.
I even started taunting my parents for deciding to have children.
The self-loathing was epic.
Just a few more things in the dining room and we’re ready to go. Finally!
While cursing myself, I watched our main contractor, struggling to fine tune the waste water outflow pipes. In January and February, he smiled while he worked. Last week, his face was a mask of grim determination. I could tell, he wanted the project done too.
Across the yard, our groundskeeper Angelo and helper Domenico were struggling mightily to level the lawn and plant the grass seed. A month ago, they sang folk songs while they worked. Last week, the quaintness dissolved into bickering about the best way to spread the seeds and they ate lunch in separate areas.
Even our enthusiastic business agent, who has thrown himself into the project, sat on a chair looking drained.
When one of an endless stream of deliveries showed up, the ladies making the inside of the Estate beautiful and comfortable would come out slowly and grab whatever it was and disappear back in the house. They looked like zombies.
In the early stages of the project at the end of the day, we would eagerly show each other what we’d been able to accomplish and open a bottle to celebrate. Last week, people just left with a perfunctory, “A domani” or “’Til tomorrow.”
At the start, I was happy to be consulted on decisions big and small, but the truth is, now the only thing I want to hear or see is results.
The Estate had a lot of modern art because the last person who lived there 10 years ago liked it. We’ve switched to more traditional Abruzzese art and it really warms up the feel.
I don’t care anymore which painting or chair goes where. I don’t want to see anymore geysers shooting from the ground when we flip the pumps on the irrigation system. I don’t want to have to call the pool guy one more time to have him explain, yet again, how the *&^%$ circulation system works, and I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear from me again either.
I don’t even care where the flowers go, and I love flowers.
It was the same way eight years ago when we were approaching the end of renovating and kitting out our first location in the town of Torre de’Passeri in Italy’s Abruzzo region about 150 kilometres east of Rome. I just wanted it done.
I’m there.
I want to flip to the switch from start-up project to operations, and, thankfully for my sanity, it’s about to happen.
This is the bedroom I’m going to stay in for a few days in order to test things out.
The pool is operating. The grounds are as ready as possible in early spring. The bedrooms have what they need. If we had to start operation tomorrow, we could.
Next week, the wifi dudes do their thing and the last few deliveries arrive.
After that, we will have a bit of fun for a week, stress-testing the buildings and working out operations. We’re going to do this by having a group of our co-workers, contractor, subcontractor, and others live in the building for several days.
That I’m looking forward to.
But, I’ll tell you, if the !@*&^ water pumping system or the pool’s truly idiotic circulation system break down again, I’m going to lose my *&^*#^% mind.
Happy Easter.