The thing about being a serial relationship-ist is that I'm not good at being single. And no, I don't mean I cry into my pillow at night because the only spooning action I get is from my dog, in fact it's nice being able to hog the covers and practice my Kung fu throughout the night. And again, I don't need someone taking me out or getting me drunk because I can do that just find with my friends. What I mean is I relied on these male counterparts for a lot of life-related things without realizing it, like moving into a new apartment or grocery shopping for example. From packing all my random shiz into boxes to carrying the world's heaviest TV up four flights of stairs, a dude has been there to help me out.
All throughout my childhood my dad was there to assemble all my impossible-to-build desks and bunk beds, and then in college the dude would help (but really just do it for me) put together side tables and provide me with a hammer, screwdriver and all the other things I find impossibly boring. It's not that I thought I was incapable of carrying 12 bags of groceries up the stairs at once or that I couldn't just buy my own set of tools, but it seemed to be a mutually beneficial routine -- he feels like a manly man and I don't have to learn what a drill bit is. Win, win.
But where does that leave me when I have a new empty pad and no guy around to do all the dirty work for me? Screwed (pun intended). Anyway, I went to Target because it's the happiest place on Earth (besides the airport, of course) and was all, "Woo hoo! Construction Barbie, reporting for duty!" and I went ahead and bought a set of curtains (so I could stop flashing the neighbors with my see-through blinds) and a rod. NBD, my roommate has a screwdriver! Good to go!
I got home and realized that not only was the rod too short for my window, but I also only bought one panel of a curtain and I definitely needed more than a dinky screwdriver to secure the rod to a wall. Target trip round 2: Fight! I walked in past the carts to the customer service counter with purpose and returned the rod. Piece of cake. I headed for the window section where I realized the one panel curtain I bought was one-of-a-kind and had to pick out two more. I'll just return the other one later, whatever. After a quick Google search, I realized what a "duvet cover" was and that I needed one, so since my arms were full, perfect time to go check out the power tools.
Luckily the dude in the electronics department jacks a cart for me and takes me to the tools section (once again, relying on a man. Rosie the Riveter would slap me across my face right now). I buy a power screwdriver that's cordless so I can reach (at his suggestion since I was ready to buy the cheapest one I could find..), a set of pink tools and head back home. This is when I realize how little I actually know about anything. I start obsessively measuring and freaking out because I don't have a pencil, I'm trying to use a level on a rounded rod support, I'm standing on a swivel chair and I don't know what a freaking drill bit is, but with the help of Google and my roommate, I realize I do not have one.
I feel like you should just be able to screw the rod into the wall. Or better yet, I should be provided with blinds that aren't effing see through to begin with. So now I'm sitting on my adorbz chevron duvet cover (such a weird word, "duvet") perfectly visible to the world outside my window reflecting on my codependency and how the majority of my Sunday was spent on this unsuccessful project. Just another day in the life. But really though, I think I've learned more about myself, my inadequacies as well as my strengths, in the past few months than ever before. Eventually I'll make that curtain rod my bitch, just like I did with the carwash, and I'll be a better person for it. Eventually there will probably be another guy in my life to help me measure windows before purchasing curtains for them, and hopefully he'll enjoy carrying groceries in (because frankly it's a pain in my ass), but for now I'm perfectly fine sitting on my girly bed with my girly dog feeling frustrated about a silly task gone awry. There's a learning experience around every corner these days.
This journey to the west coast has been one of self discovery, Full House style. I'm diggin' it.