Sunday, November 01, 2020

Head Check

 Maybe I should have my head examined. On Saturday evening, I lent my strong back to the efforts of my brother-in-law's move into a new apartment. I have done this exercise before. A number of times. I lifted. I toted. I hoisted. And I made this suggestion: The next apartment really ought to be on the first floor. Somehow stairs seem to be inherent in the world where my brother-in-law lives and moves. 

But that's not the reason I should have my head examined. Over the past couple months, we have been methodically going through all the windows in our house, removing them, sending them out to be refurbished by someone with lots more window refurbishing acumen than I have. Then they returned, all fresh and almost new, and I put them back in the house. Where they belong. 

Which isn't why I need my head examined. It was a process that became easier each time I took a window out or put one back in. Learn by doing, my son's college used to say. So I grew a new skill. That's a good deal. No need for head examining here. 

Until I tell you that we had been putting off painting the outsides of the windows, because we were waiting for the glazing that had been renewed to cure. And we had to come to a decision on color. What hue were we going to cover the primer with? My wife thought orange, because we all live in a Yellow Submarine, porthole included. Why not yellow? Well. the accent colors are pink and orange. We know this because we looked at the Lego model I got for my birthday a few years back. Taking a Lego piece to Home Depot to match the color isn't quite head-examining material. Not quite. 

Waking up on Sunday morning with the notion that I could remove every one of those windows once again, paint the outside, then put them back in. In a day. By myself. My wife suggests that maybe I am too intense. Intensity may be the reason I should have my head examined. Not that my intensity isn't appreciated, at least once the smoke clears. That's when I feel the day slip away from me. The conversations I missed and the muscles that are sore as a result of my obsession. 

Because I won't just relax once I finish some monstrous task. I go looking for more. 

I should have my head examined.

1 comment:

  1. There's probably some orange paint on it by now.

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