"Sticking to strengths less painful than not" by: Jessica Shepard

   Sooo, I had my first experience hanging drywall over the weekend – on a ceiling.
   And I have come to the realization that my upper body strength counts for nothing on a ladder when my fear of heights kicks in.
   Plus, an uneven floor and rickety ladder are all just a recipe for disaster anyway.
   But, this was another one of mom’s brilliant brainchild moments for the ridiculously unprepared.
   Not to mention that my brother was less than helpful by not screwing the board in fast enough.
   The good news is that the ceiling is up; the bad news is that there are still three more walls to cover and I’m just not seeing this working out without him.
   Plus, he didn’t measure things exactly right before making eyeballed cuts and adjustments.
   The whole task was very anxiety-inducing and makes me want to just find some professionals to finish it up.
   Mom, however, thinks otherwise and we’ll probably hold onto the other drywall panels until my brother comes for another visit.
   That won’t be until sometime in July probably, so, the den is turning into a bit of a storage space for half-completed home improvement projects.
   To be fair, I told her that doing those kinds of improvements or 
construction-grade work makes me nervous.
   I’m much better at finer focus on little things instead of big ones.
   Take for example these little ceramic mushrooms she has in her potted plants and flower beds.
   The chickens are terrible about knocking them over or kicking them out of the pots to lay in said pots.
   That leads to a lot of broken mushrooms which I get to piece and glue back together.
   I’m awesome at that sort of thing!
   It’s like gluing a puzzle back together and trying to bring back some of the original shapes.
   Though there’s always a tiny fragment or chip missing here or there.
   Overall, it works out and makes mom happy, so, I take care of them for her.
   The drywall thing is another disaster waiting to happen and I prefer it to wait until my brother comes back.
   The trick is seeing if mom can wait that long.
   And knowing her, it won’t be that long and I’ll be up on another ladder trying not to freak out and fall – and possibly die when I land on concrete.
   I’m aware that it sounds a bit paranoid and overdramatic; I’m well aware.
   But, the sentiment remains the same and I’d much rather keep my feet firmly planted on the ground than perched atop a narrow-rung ladder.
   My strengths and skills were just not made for that sort of work and I’m doubtful that I’ll get the hang of it to be useful at any point in the future.
   Plus, I can’t superglue drywall if it gets broken because I drop it or something.
   Then I’m really out of my depth of expertise!

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