FedEx delivered my new computer desk yesterday in a 120-lb box. Do you know how much weight that is? I mean, really. I lost 110 lbs but didn’t have any clue how much that actually WAS until I tried getting the box from the hallway into the apartment. I used those magic furniture glides that are featured on late night TV ads and they actually did work as advertized, helping to slide the box along the carpet to the right room.
There is no way in hell that I’d have been able to get that box from a store to the car and into my building so I was extra glad that I’d found it online and paid the big bucks for shipping and delivery.
Inside the box were various heavy wood pieces labeled with letters, small odd-shaped pieces, some heavy metal roller assemblies, and a bag full of screws in different sizes and shapes along with the patented Sauder assembly lock device. Many of them. The room is a mess.
Before assembling, they advise you to read the directions through at least once. Being a good little dooby, I read them. The English version, since the French and Spanish ones in the middle of the instruction booklet were not particularly helpful, oddly enough. The pages were full of line diagrams with circles and arrows and invitations to go to the web to watch little Flash movies to illustrate some – but not all – of the steps. There are no movies of the steps that are confusing me.
Now, I like putting things together. I’ve always been fond of puzzles and in grade school those stupid aptitude tests showed that I was good at spacial relations and would be a good engineer. Obviously I didn’t pay too much attention to this early career advice. But still, when faced with a set of complicated directions and a pile of pieces, I can usually figure it out.
I even have my very own handy dandy cordless drill/screwdriver, complete with molded plastic carrying case. I feel very powerful and capable when I haul it out and it comes in handy when assembling things that come in many pieces. Such as now, with a floor strewn with little screws and wood pieces with holes in them.
My brain has been focusing on bibliographic puzzles lately, not spacial relations challenges. I’m up to page 6 of the directions, where things are getting a little hairy, so I’m doing this in installments. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll be fresh enough to decipher the next set of little pictures and diagrams. I want my desk whole and functioning, which is a great incentive.