Since buying a house, I’ve become quite frustrated with my lack of abilities. I really don’t know how to assemble anything other than a cheeseburger or taco, and the one thing I thought I could do — drill a hole in the wall — I failed at miserably.
I needed help choosing colors. I needed help painting. I needed help hanging blinds. I needed help putting a rod up in my closet. I needed help moving. I needed help taking down a fan and putting a new one up. I needed help opening a ladder. Seriously.
My friends and family are going to disown me if I keep asking for help. There’s only so much bourbon I can provide.
Tuesday night, I attempted to hang a small blind on the back door ALL BY MYSELF. I huffed and puffed and got the drill to go through the wood. I got the brackets set and tight like a nice pair of jeans on a lady. And when I went to clip in the actual blind, the one place where I chose to put a bracket was the one place a bracket could not go. (Sounds eerily similar to my dating life.)
Out of the blind’s 42 inches, I chose the road not taken. And found out it was not taken for good reason — because it led me right off a cliff.
Tonight, I’m attempting to hook up a gas dryer. If I don’t post tomorrow, you know what happened. I’m sure the headline: “Gas explosion in Germantown nukes Bar Belle” will clue you in.