On the roof, it’s peaceful as can be, and there the world below don't bother me, no

This J.T. song, which has been running through my brain today, offered some insight. Perhaps the problem is not with the roof. Perhaps the problem is me, and my relationship to the roof. If, the song says, I am on the roof, the world below the roof don't bother me. Of course! The roof cannot drip on me, if I am standing atop it. I could simply set up my tent on the roof. I have weathered many rainstorms in my tent. I'll just move up there every time it rains.

Or, I was thinkning about Chernobyl. They enclosed the reactor in a concrete sarcophagus, but the sarcophagus is cracking and beyond repair. So they're building a hanger over the whole thing, to enclose the sarcophagus that encloses the reactor. Maybe I could build a hanger over my roof, instead of continuing this charade of trying to repair it.