Building furniture makes me happy. Actually, I should say assembling furniture makes me happy. I feel an extreme sense of accomplishment from putting together flat packed furniture. I even open the box with an X-Acto knife, with extra vigor just because I’m proud to own an X-Acto knife.
So today I assembled my coffee table and sat back smirking to myself with my hands on my hips. Chuck Norris, eat your heart out. Your round house kicks have nothing on my Allen Key welding skill.
This sense of ‘I built a fire, look at me’ was short lived, because I looked down at the carpet and noticed some metal circles lying there. I felt myself deflate – could these possibly be decorative, likely not.
So I began to flip through the manual to see if there was an easy solution, like maybe I had to put the little metal rings into the bottoms of the table legs.
No luck, sucker.
I had to take the entire table apart and put the ‘E’ washers between all the screws and the table. But once that was done I now felt like I could go out and build my own house. Jack Bauer, eat your heart out.
Something about buying things for my apartment, lugging them around, assembling them and what not, makes me feel more independent than anything else does.
I guess the only thing that could top that would be actually paying my rent. August, I promise.
2 comments:
hmmm..maybe youre doing the 'build my own furnituure' thig after a logn time. i remember when i did it in toronto, i felt it was just not as much fun as it had been in montreal. but then again, i was always the lazier one..
hmmm..maybe youre doing the 'build my own furnituure' thig after a logn time. i remember when i did it in toronto, i felt it was just not as much fun as it had been in montreal. but then again, i was always the lazier one..
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