Dear Basement,

You are killing me.

For what feels like the millionth weekend in a row, I spent 97% of my time toiling away in the bowels of our home. I can’t deny that my Dad has spent equally as much or perhaps even more time working away on the room that will eventually house man things like music-making devices, gaming systems, and a projector.

I just don’t know how he does it. I mean, he’s nearly twice my age and is totally kicking my butt when it comes to work stamina. Add to the fact, he’s driving two and a half hours each way to enjoy a weekend of basement bonding with his daughter.

This weekend included priming, painting, some more electrical work and hanging doors. The highlight of the weekend for me was strapping two doors to the roof of my Saturn while a third door hung out from the hatchback. We looked like the Beverly Hillbillies.