It's strange how home renovations can trundle along for months, barely registering progress, then suddenly zoom to a close. That's how it felt last week with the end peeping at me from around the corner instead of cocking a snook from afar.
I realised how close we were to completion when my workers started multitasking instead of sticking to their roles: Ah Gok (electrics) put up art and Ah Ming (the muscle-man) took up cleaning. They were obviously under orders to wrap up the project, which resulted in a buzz of activity the like of which I'd not experienced since work started on my village house way back when.
During the bustle, and a casualty (Ah Ming cut his foot, which required six stitches), I braved Ikea, a task I'd put off for as long as possible because the store gives me oikophobia. No, it has nothing to do with being terrified of yobs. It is an unwarranted fear of home surroundings. Too much tat will do that.
It was also time to phone PCCW, which brought things to a screeching halt - literally. For the past couple of months, while work continued above head, I had camped on the ground level. I had already been hooked up for broadband TV and the internet on that floor. Now, with my first-level office ready, I needed a connection upstairs.
At most, I figured, it would take three hours for the task to be completed. Three days and three groups of technicians later I faced the prospect of replacing my laptop with a typewriter. Apparently something was wrong with the wiring in my house and now online access on either level was as improbable as my acquiring technological nous overnight.
'Look at the cable your contractor gave you and compare it with ours,' a PCCW technician insisted, producing two multi-hued bunches of wires.