Remodelers just finished and left after three weeks of trundling about the house.  This is hardly worthy of complaint, even within the limited realm of first world problems, but there is a point to be made.

Years ago, when I lived in Lafayette, Indiana, there was a remodeling company which aired commercials on TV.  Their slogan was “When the workmen leave, your pride is restored.”  They meant, of course, that they will have restored your house to a condition you could be proud of, but they were oblivious to the alternate interpretation: that after weeks of the indignity of surly louts lumbering in and out of your life at their whim, you could once again claim control of your life.

It’s true, you feel it.  It affects not only the limited part of the day when they’re physically there, but how you eat, how you sleep, and everything else you do.  It’s a stressor, no doubt.

Now imagine being a refugee.