Sadly Confirming What I Already Know About Myself
…and that thing was that I have no upper body strength. None. Like my arms are rubber bands. We had an “incident” in our “shed-thingy”. We came home on Christmas Day to a full-fledged shower in our “shed-thingy” because a pipe had burst. It was awful. Well, we got it fixed and then a week or two later Jason opened the door to the “shed-thingy” and there was head to toe mold EVERYWHERE. Green and black dots decorating every inch. It was awful. So two weekends ago we pulled it all out. It was like 10 below 0 and we deconstructed the entire “shed-thingy”. It was so gross. I would barely pull on the sheetrock and it will all come off. Ick! So this past Saturday was the day to REconstruct. David came over to help (thank the good Lord). I was supposed to “ASSist” them. Jason kept saying, “Get the drill ready!” I didn’t even know what I would be doing but I had the drill in my hand! So they both climb up tall ladders and raise an 8-foot piece of dry wall over their heads and Jason goes, “Wendy, climb up David’s ladder and start drilling in the screws.” Riiiiiiight. So I climb up David’s ladder (eventually I looked like a koala holding on to him because I didn’t know what eles to do with myself) with the drill aimed above my head. On the first attempt I don’t think I even got the drill above my head before the screw fell off…mind you they still have a 40 million pound sheet of sheet rock above their head and David’s rotator cup (shoulder) doesn’t work right. Second attempt and the screw met the surface of the sheet rock and then fell off. Then David started laughing which was bad because he was my support and because it was making me laugh. I think I only got to make 3 attempts before David said, “Give it to me.” So I didn’t really do much drilling that day due to puny arms. I did attempt once more to drill one screw in on a piece that was chest level in front of me. I didn’t have the drill secured in the screwhead very well and it spun off and made a lovely divot next to the screw. Oh well. I guess I wasn’t cut out for carpentry or anything that requires me to use my arms for that matter. Sigh.
Too many comforters make me uncomfortable
Jason and I were cleaning up on Sunday and it was only then that I realized there were FOUR comforters on our bed. Talk about unecessary. One might wonder…well, maybe they are cold natured people. I can assure you that Jason is not! The sun just winks at him and he breaks out into a sweat. I can be cold natured at times but not sleeping in our bedroom…it is very good at storing heat and I often wake up sweating. Our norm is 2 comforters (because Jason is a cover stealer)… one from my college days that is not too ugly but it is a red plaid on one side and green plaid on the other…very 90’s. It is amazingly comfortable to sleep with though…somehow Jason claimed that one. Then I usually sleep with a hideous comforter of Jason’s. I am pretty sure that it wasn’t from his college days because it is a muted flower scene on one side and a muted tan plaid on the other. Hideous. Again, it is very soft. However, the other two comforters have made their way on the bed…one is a quilt with flags on it…I love this one. We usually keep it on the couch downstairs. I asked Jason how it got up there and he said he likes it because it is soft. Oh my. Then pushed at the end is my down comforter that I bought in Germany one time. It is Siberian down or something. Basically it needs to be around 10 degrees to comfortably sleep in it because he literally is so hot that it is suffocating. (We have only had 3 COLD days this winter so far that would even warrant the down comforter making an appearance and so I guess that is when it found it’s home on the bed.) So the down is crammed at the bottom of the bed and the other 3 are strewn about on the bed. It is ridiculous. Wesley has claimed the down comforter as his own. He digs every night until every wrinkle is in just the right spot for him to settle down and get a good night’s sleep. Actually this makes me happy beacuse that means he is not next to me pushing his spindly little legs into my side and snoring in my face. Simon has gotten into the habit of burrowing under the covers down by my feet to sleep. I don’t know how he does it. I don’t know maybe 4 comforters is a good thing?
