Death by Garage Door

This past weekend I almost killed myself by painting my garage door.

Now, normally, painting your garage door isn’t considered a life threatening activity, unless, for example, your garage door is in Fallujah. Or, as in my case, you’re in Arizona and you’re painting a white garage door (using a nice latex semi-gloss) in 105 degree weather with the sun beating down directly on the door in front of you. In that case, you might as well be sunning yourself on the surface of Mercury during the warmer months using coconut oil and a liberal amount of aluminum foil.

After I was about one quarter done, I was starting to wonder if this was such a great idea. Half way through I was naked from the waist down in a desperate attempt to cool my head with my sweat soaked underwear and shorts. By the end, barely alive, I was almost wishing I were at work instead of home.

Almost.

This project now joins the long list of seemingly innocuous home improvement projects that I’ve undertaken through the years that have darned near killed, maimed or otherwise permanently incapacitated me. These include closing my garage door (I’m starting to think that door hates me) and assembling a swing set (big thanks again to my local fire department for saving my chestnuts on that one).

Home ownership. You got to love it!