I am a really BAD homeowner. I get exhausted after mowing half of my (very small) front lawn . . . I absolutely hate gardening . . . and in the three years I’ve been in this house, I have never cleaned my gutters. Yes, that’s right, NEVER.
(Next time, if there is a next time, I am SOOOO going condo . . . )
I get frustrated at myself because I am just so unmotivated when it comes to doing stuff around the house . . . so it was very important to me that I at least make an attempt to clean out my gutters. And let me tell you, this was quite an ordeal . . .
First of all, I don’t even own a ladder, so I had to get around to borrowing a ladder from friends. (one with the proper weight limits–some ladders are not meant for people over 200 pounds, and, well, yeah. that would DEFINITELY not work for me.)
I like to think of myself as fearless, albeit chronically exhausted, but I got halfway up that ladder, and I JUST COULDN’T DO IT. And it’s not that I am afraid of being up that high; rather, I think that I am afraid of the potential of falling, of the chance that a ladder, a gutter, a house might not be able to hold up against my weight.
And I couldn’t do it.
I tried a couple of times . . . I could climb the ladder okay, but would not have been able to do any of the gymnastics required to reach the gutters and scoop out the interesting conglomeration of leaf mush that has accumulated there. I had to admit defeat.
And then I did the only thing I could do . . . I allowed my wonderful, fearless roommate-who-I’m-not-a-lesbian-with, the one and only Kim, to do my dirty work for me, and once again to save the day.
She definitely deserves a huge discount on next month’s rent (and your donations can make that possible!) . . . and yet, I am showing her my gratitude in the only way I know how . . . by posting a blurry picture of her ass on my blog.