Bang your head!

I just detest hitting my head. Don't know too many that enjoy the sensation, though I wonder...
My small barn (six stalls for six small horses) has always been a little bit of a "make do" situation. From the days when we first moved here and it was just a two-stall shed, to the expansion in the Winter (yes, Winter) of '99.
I ADORE having an indoor space to go and feed the horses, and the barn cats have shelter.
What's happened is that it's a storage space for everything else. Four-wheelers, lawn mowers, extra lumber and what-have-you. The things that go with the horses are supposed to go in there, but the other things really bug me.
At times when we've had an extra stall, it's not so bad other than the dust and such that goes with the horses/bedding ends up on the stored item(s).
Martin had the idea to put in a shelf-type setup. This would make space for storage overhead. I didn't know this was going to happen until after it was built.
I thought it was a fine idea, but when I saw the execution, I was disappointed, though I tried to temper that.
The shelf was approximately 5'6" off the ground. I am very nearly 5'10" tall. I am the shortest adult member of the family. That was explained by the shelf being only 4' from the back wall...very little need to get under there.
Not so, I thought, as I remembered that that's where the horses like to go to pee. Of course, I ended up dropping it. Not sure why the shelf couldn't have been higher off the ground.
I envisioned myself bumping my head. Often. Happily, that did not happen.
Instead, it happens about 2-4 times a year, give or take. Today was the first time in about 6 months.
No matter, because it was a doozy.
I was dragging a huge, probably 80-lb. sack of bedding into Mouse's stall, walking backwards and shuffling at that. I had it going pretty good when I felt it.
I think I had one of those jaggy dialog clouds over my head like in the comic books. It said "KERRR-THUMPPPP-KRAKKKK" as the back of my head hit the corner of the 2X4. I had been in the process of standing up as I was shuffling backward.
I cursed. Loudly.
The horses, which had been milling around outside the doorway, thinking about coming in, quickly left, crossing the creek and away from my negativity.
Something about hitting your head that puts visions of violence dancing through the air.
I squeezed out tears, sobbing a few times just because it hurt that bad. I would have fallen to my knees, but I was in a horse stall that had just been stripped. Guess I didn't hit my head THAT hard.
Still, it pissed me right off.
As my Dad used to like to tell me, "better to be pissed off than pissed on."