A-void-ance therapy

“They tell me,” said good Doctor Freud,
“You’re becoming a bit paranoid,”
“You worry and weep,
“You wail in your sleep,
“That you’ve left a huge fiberglass void.”

It’s true, I’ve become obsessed. I lay awake at night, wondering if the layup I’ve just done will be acceptable to Barry, the Grinding Man. If it’s not, he grinds it out and I try again. Working in a space that’s only a couple of feet wide and a couple of feet high, trying to get the stuff to adhere to surfaces above my head, wearing a respirator and full Tyvek bunny suit, with temperatures over 90, is like working in hell. I must be crazy, but I think it’s worth it.