After a while, you stop looking at them. The temporary treads, covered in drywall dust and joint compound and overspray from the primer, become invisible to you, while creaking and wobbling as every step weakens the fastener securing that softwood down. You stop hearing the hollow thump your footfalls make, echoing in the hallway. You cease noticing the exposed insulation, covered in filth that can never be cleaned, like a rat nest condominium. You no longer pay heed when the tip of your flip-flop catches on a step. It’s all just part of living with temporary treads.