Breathing for Comfort

80 bags of this had to go upstairs

 I put in the blown insulation yesterday. Everyone I mentioned it to was in agreement that I should hire out this particular job; everyone agreed it’s the worst. I would think a job like this would be worse:

 

But I guess it’s all relative.

It wasn’t the heat, it wasn’t bending over for four hours at a time, it wasn’t even all the cellulose that got all over everything; it was bad because I couldn’t breathe. 

Although, in terms of worst job ever, I imagine that blown fiberglass insulation would be pretty close to this

 
I had the mask on, but apparently my nose is so dainty that any obstruction causes it to shut down faster than The Wife’s labido the one time (ONE time) I mentioned I find clowns sexy. The whole time I was in the attic, I felt like I was running a marathon (or at least out to the mailbox really fast). As a matter of fact, I still feel like it. 

I hope the feeling goes away. 

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