Out of the Closet

Day two of the Great Closet Renovation of ’09 (or as I like to call it – the condolence prize for not successfully moving) did not go as smoothly as day one.  Let’s just say some idiot (well maybe not an idiot per se but more of a chemically retarded individual) is not as skilled with a tape measure as she might have once believed.  Measure once, order once – I always say.  That’s my adaptation from Dad’s mantra, “Measure twice, cut twice (or as needed).”

To Captain Carpentry’s credit, I only heard him mumble, “Fucking hell,” once.  He took the closet plan, his tape measure, a calculator, a pen and pencil and sat down to puzzle it all out.  After a mere fifteen minutes and few more mumbled expletives, he announced he need only make four cuts to make the installation work.  Yet another calamity avoided by Rocco Vila and his handy tool collection!

I’d pre-installed hardware on a few shelves in an attempt to be helpful.  I was instructed to remove the hardware from one side of two specific shelves.  Sadly this proved a bit more of a challenge than anticipated and I partially destroyed the particle board working the pieces out that I’d just hammered into place.

After twenty minutes, a broken finger nail, fourteen chunks of missing particle board, and one bent screwdriver, I proudly brought my shelves in to the office for Rocco Abram to begin his precision cutting.

He looked at the shelves, looked at me, then said, “Hmm, maybe we should work on our communication.”

“What.  Hardware out.  One side.  Each shelf.  Ta-frickin-da.”

“No, I mean perhaps I should work on clarifying my communication with you.  I meant the other side.”

“You didn’t say which side.”

“Exactly.  Sorry.”

So another twenty minutes, several hammer strokes, a straightened screwdriver, and several self-deprecating jokes later, we had the shelves ready for cutting.

It’s those moments where I miss having a porch or driveway or chunk of outside area most.  There’s just something in the core of my being that screams in protest every time Rocco fires up a power saw in the office.  Do other people do woodworking next to their computer?  Is it wise to use a power sander on a carpet?  Somehow I have my doubts, but I just wanted those closets installed and some semblance of normalcy back in the apartment.

Long story slightly less long – the wizard of woodworking managed to cram a closet organizer into a closet one and a quarter inches smaller than we believed.  Granted, it took some judicious use of hammers, saws, and swear words – but it’s in.  I’m ecstatic.  And the cardboard and other closet carnage is all down by the dumpster.  Woo-motherfuckin-hoo.


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