Charley, that sounds like some women I've known.

I just remembered the year we were staining our house. I had an old wooden extension ladder, heavy as a son of a bitch, and was painting rignt at the peak of the two story house when the rung I was standing on broke. I dropped to the next rung, grabbed with both hands and dropped the brush. Then, with trembling heart, I crawled to the bottom and went in to clean out my underwear and have a stiff drink. I never did finish that portion of the house. It was the last and it spent the rest of its days with only one coat on that peak.