"The Computer Desk, The Monkey, and Me"

     Last night I was reminded again why I don’t make my living repairing or building things. My mind just doesn’t work too well where these kinds of things are concerned. In this case, I was putting together a computer desk. You know the kind. 18,000 parts and instructions written by some deranged disciple of Charlie Manson or worse yet - a fan of Alex Baldwin. OK, so I’m exaggerating a little, but you know how it feels to have to put together a piece of “furniture” like that. Speaking of the person or persons who really do write the instructions for putting together such a mind-numbing project, let’s consider a few salient points on such a person. First, it’s obvious that they are not actually writers. Second, they must be psychopathic misfits bent on making other people who are mentally healthy individuals into people who lose all rational thought processes and themselves become babbling basket weavers, generally drooling into the baskets they are making. Third, they have willing partners in crime.

     These partners include an illustrator, a packing “specialist”, and a monkey who’s sole job it is to intentionally leave out at least one essential part. Usually it’s the part that holds the whole thing together. The “illustrator” must be a frustrated artist who, after finding no willing buyer for his “artwork”, resorts to drawing the plans for building the said project and takes his frustrations out on the poor unsuspecting and soon to be drooling fool. The packing specialist is actually quite talented. This person manages to stuff more parts, nuts, bolts, and so forth into a box that will weigh roughly the same as an aircraft carrier, but is deceptively small for its weight. Which reminds me. When you see “WARNING!” on the box accompanied by a picture of a guy holding his back in pain - heed the warning!

     So, last night I put together the computer desk. It was quite a workout. I could lose weight doing such a project. There were moments when I sat down and could feel the drool building up. There were moments when I realized that I had put half of the thing together backwards resulting in me having to take it apart and do it again. There were moments when I felt like a contortionist tied in knots on my living room floor. There were triumphant moments when I put something together and it actually looked like the picture on the box. By the way, have you ever noticed they don’t put an anticipated time for putting one of those things together? It took me roughly 3 hours. Sad, very sad.

     You no doubt are asking why I’m telling you about all of this. Surely there must be some profound lesson learned that I feel compelled to share with you. Nope. I’m just proud as heck that I survived the ordeal and as I sit here writing this I am gazing fondly at my shiny new computer desk that I put together. Oh, and not a word about the 3 bolts leftover that I have no idea where they came from. Some things are better left a mystery!