Some Assembly Required
Alternately titled: In Which I Am Humbled By Simple Tasks.
There is nothing quite like being driven to the edge of sanity by some drawer organizers. Well, maybe throwing a temper tantrum while attempting to turn a mattress or, worse- turning a mattress while also attempting to replace a bed skirt.
It isn’t that I can’t do these things. I’m certainly capable. The problem is more a matter of pride. I can’t stand to do things I’m not good at. My tolerance for doing things poorly or struggling is absurdly low. You would think the rash of things I’ve had to handle that I’m not experienced with would have cured me of this affliction. You would be wrong. So very wrong. There isn’t anything character building about dissolving into tears over a few pieces of fabric and cardboard.
Putting things together is like a special kind of torture for me. Other people look at something and have some sort of spatial reasoning that allows them to conceptualize how the pieces come together. I develop a thin film of sweat and a lump in my throat.
It starts innocently enough. I saw some pretty drawer organizers, so I brought them home. There are two pieces; the fabric organizer with two compartments, and a stiff piece of cardboard covered in fabric to form the bottom and hold the compartments in shape. All I have to do is put the bottoms in.
Famous. last. words.
The bottom is really hard to fit into the back of the fabric. When one end is good and settled, the other end pops out. Wash, rinse, repeat. Take a deep breath. Try again. Shake hands loose. Try to laugh at yourself. Make another attempt. Stop and look at it. Try opposite corners. Fail. Throw item across room. Feel foolish. Retrieve item. Try three more times with perfect restraint, succeed the third time, pick item up out of lap only to watch the bottom fall out. Burst into tears.
Over a drawer organizer. Well, maybe moreso because there are two drawer organizers. I did finally succeed. Or so I thought. When I put the drawer organizers in the drawer, the bottoms fell out. I filled them up anyway, and am currently ignoring the fact that they are collapsing. I consider that a win. I’m also considering the use of hot glue.
The bed skirt, on the other hand, spanked my ass.
I could tell you the whole story, but I think the upshot captures it perfectly- me laying between my box spring and mattress on top of a rumpled bed skirt, muttering obscenities while hot tears slip down my cheeks. The bed skirt is currently on the top shelf of my closet. I’m going to call this a retreat and not a loss; I will fight another day.
After all, it only took me a month to master a corkscrew. Hope springs eternal.
4 comments
“I can’t stand to do things I’m not good at. My tolerance for doing things poorly or struggling is absurdly low.”
YES… I COMPLETELY understand that statement because that’s ME, too!
There are some tasks you CAN do by yourself that it’s just much better to get some help with. Because it’s even more absurd when TWO people can’t battle the bedskirt into submission (don’t ask me how I know… but I do…)
.-= MsDarkstar´s last blog ..F-Word Friday (12) =-.
that makes me feel *so* much better!
The trick to the bedskirt – start from the bottom and lift the mattress to put it under and shove it up as far as you can, wad it up as far as you can getting the bottom into place then run back and forth from side to side sliding each side up a bit at a time until it’s in place. Ummmm – don’t ask how many times I had to run around the bed. ;0
You can do it!
.-= Tricia´s last blog ..If you want God to laugh at you make some plans… =-.
oh my god, I could not adore you more! I’m in hysterics over here because I cannot count the times a bedskirt has slapped me silly. Mine took days to reign in, and has been on my bed for over a year. I will never take it off again.
.-= emma´s last blog ..Relinquishing A Dream =-.
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