On Wednesday I put together a dresser from Ikea. It seemed like a simple enough task, I mean really, how hard can it be?
On Tuesday night I figured out that the reason I was feeling so lethargic was because I am an idiot and hadn't taken my iron pills in over a week, so after a couple doses I was feeling downright spritely on Wednesday. Bring it on! I can build a dresser!
I ripped apart the two enormous boxes it came in and was faced with two items of concern.
1. The bag of screws:
2. The instruction book was quite large, but it was filled with pictures instead of words which is why I love Ikea. However, the picture of the tools necessary for the job was a little disconcerting:
I decided the only way to deal with this project (that I was already starting to hate just a little bit), was to compartmentalize it.
I shut the door to the office (where I was building my piece de resistance), put on some music and three hours, one popsicle, one short but loud outburst of profanity coupled with hitting a random piece of wood with a hammer, and absolutely no mention of an icepick, I completed this goddamn dresser.
Of slight concern, but which we won't mention because so far so good, is this:
I assume that Ikea just...included some extra parts. Spare parts, if you will. Just in case of...something.
I actually felt pretty proud of myself when it was completed, it was a satisfying experience. One thing I did not take into account is how sore I would be the next day after spending 3 hours hoisting my ridiculously pregnant body up and down off the floor during the process.
Today? Costco. This life, friends, it is one of unending excitement. (But seriously, I can't even tell you how happy I am that things are settled and that I'm furiously nesting right now. I am so happy.)