Typical Day
William the Woodworker wakes up with the sun. As the coffee pot sings its morning song, William pulls on his jeans, buttons his flannel, and laces up his work boots. Running a handmade wooden comb through his hair, he reflects on the projects that await him today.
Ever since he left the cabinet company where he started his career ten years ago, he's been building a name for himself in kitchen cabinet refacing. It's been almost two years since he struck out on his own and he's just starting to get a handle on the enormous task of running his own business.
Today, his schedule consists of three meetings with clients looking to give their kitchens facelifts and he also had to build ten new custom cabinets for an existing customer. All in all, he figures his work day should run about twelve hours. He also figures he might as well drink that entire pot of coffee now.
After breakfast, William heads off in his van to meet his first client of the day. When he gets to her house at 8:00AM, he rings the doorbell and hears a loud meow answer back. The door opens and an old woman in a hand-knitted cat sweater waves him inside. "This should be interesting," he thinks to himself.
As they go into the kitchen, William sees the desperate need for an upgrade. Every cabinet is covered in scratch marks. He gets closer to examine the damage, opens one of the doors, and a tabby comes screeching out from behind a box of cereal.
The next two appointments are less eventful, but leave William feeling drained. By noon he's already traveled through four counties, planned out three new projects, and learned the names of far too many animals and children to ever remember. He closes his eyes once more and almost gives in to the feeling of fatigue that's washed over him. A nap sounds like heaven, but there's much work to be done.
After a quick lunch back home (and another cup of coffee), William makes his way outside to his workshop. Here, he consults a jam-packed calendar outlining his current projects. First up, Mrs. Meddles' new pine cabinets. He finds the measurements that he took during his follow-up visit with the client and sets to work marking and cutting the wood. As he throws on his goggles and gloves, he starts to get re-energized.
Something about working with his hands makes William feel completely alive. He gets the wood cut into the proper dimensions and then consults his notes to see what detailing has been requested. The instructions read: tiny roses with butterflies in each corner. After four hours of painstakingly carving the intricate details into the first cabinet, William decides to check his phone for messages.
- First message: the old cat lady requesting that he hunt down some ivory cat shaped handles to install on each cabinet. Awesome.
Second message: a reminder that his business loan payment is due tomorrow. There goes the money from his last project.
Third message: Mrs. Meddles calling to inform William that her husband got wind of the detailing she requested and refuses to pay for anything but the basic cabinets they originally discussed.
William walks over to the cabinet he just finished and feels the overwhelming urge to throw it across the room, but thinks twice. His wife did want a nicely framed picture of them for their anniversary and he's a little short on cash. "Lemonade, William," he thinks to himself. "Lemonade."
An alarm goes off in the workshop at 7:00PM and William heads inside for dinner. His wife sits at the table, ready to eat, and his son (first name Douglas, middle name Fir) bounces around on the bench with a set of wooden blocks in hand. Like father, like son.
After dinner, William spends an hour or so with his family before heading back to the workshop to try and get back on track with Mrs. Meddles' cabinets. There's no room to fall behind when you have a reputation to uphold. The goggles and gloves go back on and William falls back into the zone, tired, but happy to be doing what he loves.