There are few jobs I would want to do less than work for a fumigation company. In the world of termite control and inspections, a short list comes to mind: insulation installer, crawlspace vapor barrier installer, and ductwork installer. All three require spending far more time in attics or crawlspaces than I’d ever want. But outside of those, termite fumigator sits firmly at the top of the list.

Installing and removing the tenting material used to fumigate a home is backbreaking work. The tenting is heavy and dirty. Days are spent climbing ladders with large sections of tarp on your shoulder, walking every inch of steep roofs—often two stories or more—carrying weighted tubes to secure the bottom of the tent, clearing vegetation and gravel from around the home, and squeezing dozens of clamps just to connect two sections of material.

It’s a thankless job. Crack a roof tile and you’ll hear about it. Don’t crack one, and no one says a word.

Fumigators become so accustomed to walking on roofs that they’ll casually walk backward toward the edge. Every time I’m on a roof, I feel like I’m approaching the summit of K2. I never feel comfortable, no matter how mild the pitch. When I’m on a ladder treating a second-story eave, I feel an invisible force pulling me backward. I never let my guard down on a ladder—and I’m on them all the time. Meanwhile, fumigators climb ladders the way most people walk down a sidewalk.

And that doesn’t even begin to address the heat. All summer long, they’re walking on what are essentially hot plates made of tile and composition shingles. Long sleeves and pants are mandatory to protect their skin from both the sun and the roof surface. Handkerchiefs and wide-brimmed hats shield their faces and necks. It’s relentless.

I’ve never seen a fresh-looking fumigator. They’re always dirty, always sweaty—and always working. It’s the kind of job where once something is finished, it’s finished, so there’s no reason to slow down.

Despite all of this, I’ve never encountered a fumigator in a bad mood. They always seem genuinely happy. There’s constant banter among the crew, always a joke or a bit of teasing when the opportunity presents itself. Being present during fumigations has given me a real appreciation for these workers, and it’s something I’m genuinely grateful for.

Any time I’m in an attic or crawlspace and catch myself complaining about the heat or how difficult it will be to reach a tight area, I think about what fumigators do every single day. Maybe we should all think about them the next time we complain about something we think is hard.