Sweating and tired, covered in mud, I crawled out from under the trailer at 5 PM. We gone under it several times since about 2:30 or so setting up for the duct exchange. My arms were so tired I could hardly lift them to get a drink of water from my jug. I had been trying to change out a "crossover duct" and just as we got into position to make the change we discovered that we had the wrong size duct. The one we were trying to put on was two inches too small. Someone had measured it wrong. Three hoours of hard, dirty work all for naught.
There are certain things I like to do but being under a trailer isn't one of them. I think I suffer from a slight case of claustrophobia anyway and being in such close quarters makes me stress out more than usual. I don't like heights either, as Di will gladly tell you; as much as I don't like close quarters.
The ideal scenario would feature my having a helper that can do those things for me while I supervise.
But isn't that the way of it nowadays? Don't we all wish we could just do what we want to do and have someone else do what we don't want to do? That would be paradise; having a 'second' to do the unwanted tasks while we sit back and watch the progress from our easy chairs.
Somehow I don't think I'm in line for that particular position just yet. The hard jobs keep falling to me to accomplish and so I keep crawling under those trailers or onto those tin roofs that want to buckle just as you are taking a step in uncertain territory. I suppose I had better get used to the idea that not everyone gets what they want just when they want it. Our world hasn't become any easier overnight and I really don't expect it to any time soon.
In fact, I rather think ...that it might just get worse.
No comments:
Post a Comment