Chantier is French for work site, which it was for weeks. EVERYTHING was covered with plaster dust at all times. I would spend hours mopping the same place over and over. Besides that, the water there is hard and my hair, what there is of it, felt like straw. My mouth tasted like cement and felt like sand. I couldn't sleep. And it was getting colder every day. At night I slept with the door closed and a small space heater kept me vaguely warm. I slept in my clothes with made it easier to get up and get going in the morning. I started by painting the hideous green walls in my bedroom.
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