DIY Your Life

My father was never what you'd call a "handy" man. Thanks to that, neither was I.

I've tried to be, lately, with The Wife's father's help. And I've have some successes. And some longer term failures.

The work I did solo, on the shower, was a tremendous success. I had help with the kitchen sink (which I'd discovered recently, actually leaks). But guess what, I know how to fix it. That's right, this morning, I found inspiration on one of my two favorite places to think.

I always do my best thinking in bed, just before sleep claims my consciousness. My second muse inducing spot? Like any other man, it's on the can.

This morning, that's where I got the idea that perhaps, just maybe... the water pressure is too high. I never stopped to put two and two together, but there it is. And you know what? It's gonna work. I always get this feeling when I'm right.

That's why it always seems like I'm right, Gina, because I generally don't push if I'm not sure.

And yet, here I am, nervous like a school boy who might have written something particularly nasty about a teacher he was attracted to and not realized that she had just walked by (Kurt, if you're out there, you remember what I'm talking about).

I'm willing to cut a hole in a wall, jam my arm thru some fiberglass (which, I've discovered, I'm extremely allergic to) and re-pipe the bathroom, caution to the wind, "who cares about water damage"? But the idea of opening up my Xbox360, a $250 dollar item, has me in a cold sweat.

It's Alanis Morissette's definition of Ironic.