ceiling paint is thicker than the regular stuff, comparable to a gallon of whale's semen in semi-gloss; its also pretty stinky. and it dries funny (funny like michael jackson's face after the thriller years, not funny like jacko thinking we all believed his facial fairytale after he moonwalked with other corpsey looking characters).
ceiling paint dries patchy, and it leaves shadows. this activates the lady macbeth reflex, leading to obsessive rolling of additional tacky layers, spawning more patchy clusters.
and so it goes on.
i am a home improvement sisyphus, except instead of rolling a gargantuan rock up a hill, the "must not exceed 250lbs" podium is my purgatory, rolling shamu's special brand with lactic saturated arms.