The Competition

I pushed the broom with a quick rhythm across the driveway. Painters were crawling around on the roof like ants, putting their finishing touches on the carefully crafted facade. Empty boxes of garbage were being carried out of the house and vacuums and mops were being carried in. The house was on the market now and pressure was building. Other homes on the street were already listed and the games had begun.

I was focused on my work when a neighbouring builder approached the site. He walked straight up to me and without modality said "I sold my house".

There was a pause in the action as my guts began to quake. My silence made it obvious that I was not happy. Heads were turning. The trades working on my house were now tuned into the interaction. I made the honourable move and congratulated him. I listened to the story of how the offers and counter offers had come to completion. He complemented the good job I was doing and walked away. The pace on the job site resumed. I put my head down and continued again with the rhythm of the broom as the looming disappointment dug in a little deeper.

I don't consider myself to be a competitive person. No one else does either. I have taken several personality tests that would verify this - apparently this is because I don't watch a lot of sports. But pride develops when you devote yourself to something. You become vulnerable and start to care about things that are very real within the context, but are not always logical. I pride myself in building houses that are well built, carefully designed and aggressively priced. Unfortunately, I also pride myself in out-selling the competition. And I usually do. It's hard not to care.