How Lowe's can you Goes?

Exciting, but for me it's more like never stop feeling inadequate, different and out of place.

I look down the aisle and sweat starts to bead on my forehead.  I had no idea there were so many different types of air filters.  I did not know there were so many components to toilets and plumbing.  And that the world was filled with so many variations of duct tape.

A trip to Lowe's, or any other mega-hardware store, for many is a thing of joy and excitement. I see men and women, all engrossed in assembling what they need for a myriad of projects, discussing things with themselves, sometimes bringing staff members into the conversation.  They are in homeowner's heaven, looking for items to implement their dream plans.

Not so much me, though.  I feel completely lost, overwhelmed and inadequate.  This is not my world, and I am uncomfortable and nervous.  There is very little of interest to me here, and very little that I understand. There is no project that I know how to collect the right materials for, and frankly, no home improvement project that I am interested enough in to tackle.

The store is a living reminder that whatever gene it is that causes one to be interested in these things, whatever desire lurks in many, is absent from my genetic makeup. I feel inadequate that I don't know how to do any of these things.  But I also feel guilty that I don't really care.

I noted to some people that I don't like to go to Lowe's, and that it leaves me feeling inadequate and out of place.  They remarked how I could use the staff for assistance, how I could find out how to do projects via YouTube videos, or how they knew from things that I had done in the past that I was capable of doing it if I focused.  All true to a degree, bot not really the point.

It's true that my mechanical skills are low.  I took a test in Junior High where I scored 12 out of 100 in mechanical ability.  A monkey taking the test could have scored higher.  It showed that I was more mechanically declined than mechanically inclined.

More importantly, though, I'm just not wired to care.  I remember once that I was determined to tile my kitchen floor from scratch.  And I did 95% of the works, from tearing up the old floor to putting in the new one.  When it was finally finished, it looked pretty good.  I had done a good job.  Was I overwhelmed with a sense of completion of satisfaction, looking at it with pride, exclaiming "I did that!" ?  No, what I felt was that I never wanted to do that again, that I never wanted to take up that much time doing something like that ever again.

Fortunately, I'm married to a beautiful woman who does like these things, and her father, who also loves home improvement  projects, lives nearby.  So I gladly take a back seat and let them take control of this area of our lives.

Not that I won't help sometimes.  I'll lend a hand, as uncoordinated as it may be, to aide in the effort, with proper direction, of course.

I'll even go into Lowe's with her to provide what little help I can.  Even if it does make me feel inadequate, guilty and out of place.

The things I do for love.