So, as you might have guessed, I live alone now. Well, with my cat. Which is totally cool and fine. I'm liking it actually. If I put something down, it's exactly where I left it when I get back. If something is misplaced or a mess, I have no one to blame but myself. It's great.
This being said, I have spent an ungodly amount of time on the telephone and texting lately. And I also tend to talk to myself. (I did that before, but now it may have increased.)
Today, my stubborn ass was trying to put together a vacuum cleaner without any tools. Because I don't actually own any tools. And my stubborn ass refuses to spend money on them because, seriously, WHEN am I going to need them?
Well, except for putting together this vacuum cleaner.
And my new bicycle.
Oh, whatever. I can clearly enlist the help of others.
Or just use my hands.
Today, I chose the latter. I figured it wasn't a big deal, it was only one screw that secured the handle to the rest of the vacuum. No biggie. So I fussed with it a little and was able to screw it in without a screwdriver. I wiggled the handle. Pretty stable.
"HA!" I yelled, triumphant. "Take that, vacuum! I don't need any stinkin' tools."
Then I pushed the vacuum forward maybe a quarter of an inch, and the handle fell off in my hand, the screw shooting out and rolling across the floor.
It was one of those moments where I could only shake my head. And then tweet about it.