I hired a handyman to help me scrape and paint the cathedral ceilings in the living room because, even on a 16 foot ladder, I couldn’t reach the top, and my cape is at the cleaner’s so flying up there wasn’t an option. The handyman brought along a couple helpers, one of whom was a little hefty and was grunting and groaning the whole time. Like, he’d bend over to open a can of paint and I’d have to peek into the room to make sure he wasn’t dying based on the amount of wheezing going on. As he was putting on the second coat of paint, his partner was guiding him and telling him where the spots were that needed to be hit again. His partner kept saying, “Over there. Head towards the light. Go towards the light. The light! The light!” Which seemed kind of appropriate given all the dying noises the guy was making. And all I could think was, “Oh dear, please don’t head toward the light in my brand new house.”