Alright, fine, I’ll admit it. I’m a little bit lazy. I wouldn’t envy anyone tasked with the job of motivating me to do a hard day’s work. Sure, I can get the job done. If I’m working with a crew I’m not a bad choice either – I don’t want to complain or look like the worst one there. (I also have the typical male response to injury where one pretends that nothing has happened, even as said one’s thumb rolls off the workbench and onto the floor.) None of that applies to working alone with no strict schedule.
My point here is this: putting rigid insulation between the rafters sucks. It’s hot and boring. While the insulation I got was a great deal, it also has fiberglass paper faces which makes it a real asshole to deal with. I don’t want to miss my opportunity to gripe about it just because the house is small. I want to gripe about it right now. I’m lazy, I’m working alone, and I am finally realizing that the sense of adventure gleaned from a lack of experience gets less cute with time. With cuteness out the window (which is nicely installed, BTW) it is my job to strangle this task and punch it in the face.
I am going to put on my punching gloves right after I finish this cold Diet Coke and a bag of pretzels. Better watch out. By 6pm… or maybe 8-ish… the gloves come off. Or on! Fuckit.
