There comes a moment in every
young woman’s life when she realises that she can’t do everything by herself. For me, reality came crashing into my independent lady bubble last night, when faced with the horrors of D.I.Y.
Things got off to an auspicious start. This…
was quickly turned into this.
I finally figured out what this is…
and constructed this.
Bursting with girl power and full of the false confidence that only wine can give you, I lugged the box containing my new bedside table over to the middle of the floor.
This is an accurate depiction of how things unfolded over the next hour.
In case you’re wondering how it took me an hour to basically achieve nothing, I’ll break it down for you.
10 minutes: Opening the box.
20 minutes: Turning the flat upside down looking for my screwdrivers.
10 minutes: Sitting surrounded by a myriad of screws and bits of wood, looking at pictures and scratching my head.
10 minutes: Deciding where to put the first screw, thinking that it didn’t look right and panicking because it wouldn’t come out again.
10 minutes: Swearing and putting everything back into the box again.
This afternoon, everything still looks pretty much the same, except now I’m giving the box the evil eye with a cup of tea in my hand instead of a glass of wine.
At least I can still figure out how to boil a kettle.