I’m building a two-story wooden villa in 30 days — sawdust in my hair, calluses on my palms, sunrise to moonlight. Every beam placed, every nail driven, is defiance against the clock. Neighbors doubt. Weather threatens. But blueprints bloom into walls, stairs, soaring ceilings. I sand, stain, seal — sweat and saws singing progress. Coffee fuels midnight framing; rain delays become redesign wins. Day 30? Keys in hand, porch light glowing. Not just wood and nails — it’s grit, vision, heartbeat made manifest. I didn’t just build a villa. I built proof: impossible is just a deadline waiting to be shattered.
