I’m trying to tie up loose ends before my operation next week. Yesterday, I spent four hours installing a recessed light in the laundry room and still didn’t finish because:
1) Most of the work must be done from the attic, and there is so little clearance that I can barely squeeze into the space.
2) The part of the ceiling I needed to reach from the attic was beneath a sheet of plywood which was screwed to the joists, and over which eighteen electric cables were stapled.
3) Both of the cables that serviced the old light were too short to reach the wiring box on the new light, so I replaced one back to the main breaker box, and re-routed the other.
4) The new light will not completely fill the hole left by the old light, so I will have to patch it with sheetrock compound.
5) When I got everything else done, I discovered that the canister for the new light was too tall to fit beneath the plywood, so I had to return to the store and replace it with a shorter one that costs three times as much.
I reflected as I worked that even frustrating work is better than no work. I can look back at such a day, learn from it, congratulate myself on what I did right, and be thankful that I have the knowledge and the physical ability to do the job. I can also respect the fact that I never make an ass of myself by cursing God and throwing things the way my father did. I would rate me as an overall good workman. It’s not things that I screw-up and lose patience with, it’s people.
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