Kitchen and bath, whole-home, design-build. Two people or fifteen. What the crew builds looks different every week — what the office runs on doesn't.
Tile guy, cabinets, countertops, electrician, plumber, tile guy again, painter. Six weeks of group texts.
"While you're in there, can you also…" turns into unpaid work that never gets documented or billed.
Homeowners without a kitchen for eight weeks are nervous. You're the therapist. Your phone rings constantly.
Deposit, rough-in draw, cabinet delivery draw, final balance. Keeping it straight across jobs is a Friday nightmare.
The job felt profitable until you tally up actual material costs, the subs, and the one thing you forgot to charge for.
"Did the tile for Martinez get ordered?" "I think so?" "From where?" Happens on every job.
The chaos above isn't six problems. It's the same one, in different shirts: work that lives in six tools and has to be re-typed, re-remembered, and re-explained every time it crosses. In MY LAURA the estimate you write becomes the schedule, the materials list, the invoices, the sub payments, and the reports. Write it once. The rest follows.
One price, whether it's you or your whole crew. Add the next person and the bill doesn't move. The office keeps working when you're on a job site, on the coast for four days, or asleep on Sunday.
No credit card. No setup fee. Cancel in one click if it isn't right.