Moving Sucks.

I have just tried to complete two fairly simple tasks and failed at both of them. I then proceeded to crack open an alcoholic beverage at 10:54 am...on a Sunday. In my state you can't even buy alcohol at this time...thank Bob I had some on-hand or shit could have gotten ugly.

My first fail this morning was trying to replace the toilet seat in the girls' bathroom with a slow closing lid seat. I've changed toilet seats since 1996 so this shouldn't be a big deal. These seats though...lordy. The big screw that goes through the commode has a shiny bald head- no philips or flathead markings so you can help hold the screw in place with a screwdriver. Then the bottom part has this long, sharp plastic nut thing that you have to hand tighten. Except, if you've ever replaced a toilet seat before you know that the space between the screw and the commode is very tight. The beginning of the screw was easy but then as it got tighter and I couldn't get the leverage to continue screwing the nut in place the swear words began to fly.

Thankfully my hammer was safely out of reach in the garage so I couldn't "fix" it. I'm a Thrower and a Beater when shit does not go my way. My husband is also thankful that the hammer was not within reach although he now has to deal with this mess when we gets home.

FINE. I admit defeat you stupid toilet seat. FINE.

So I go to the garage for my next ordeal. This house is fine...it's really fine. By most people's standards it's probably even nice but when you've built two custom homes and are used to determining how space will be used during the planning phase it's hard to walk into a track home where things were marginally thought out and then thrown together. We'll get to all of that later.

For now...the garage. Admission of Guilt...I am terribly guilty of being spoiled rotten with my houses and in particular my garage. I've always (OK, since 2007) had a three plus car garage. ALWAYS. We have three kids, a husband who is a border-line doomsday and everyday hoarder and a bunch of STUFF. We NEED the three car garage even though we've only ever gotten one car into them.

I now have a two car garage. It makes me very stabby (like I said...I fully own that I am spoiled). I already have to eat up a big chunk of my garage with storage, bikes, a "mudroom" and a number of other things.........this leaves very little room for my car. Today was the day I was going to grab the bull by the horns and make a spot for my car (despite seeing the LARGEST SPIDER I HAVE EVER SEEN IN THE WILD in said garage yesterday...now, I'm not a huge fan of spiders but I've seen scarier shit in my house (scorpions, anyone?) so I don't freak out too badly when I see them but this guy was HELLA huge. I saw something sticking out from behind a box and thought it was perhaps a few legs and a tail from a lizard of some sort...upon closer look it was a bunch of spider legs and a HUGE body...I tried to stab him with a vintage Christmas tree post but I missed and he hauled ass away leaving a trail of dust on the ground and a nightmare in my head)...organize...sell stuff, and MOVE THAT CAR into the garage.

I figured the best place to start would be constructing the plastic shelf my husband deconstructed during the move. The great thing about the last two moves was that we hired a company and if they took things apart at the beginning of the move the reconstructed them at the final destination. My husband moved us this time. It was move like Toddler Moving Time...he took things apart, mostly put the parts in the designated box "Parts" box I told he he MUST put the parts in or I would cut off his fingers (yes, I'm a Virgo...organization is the key to a happy existence...as is, apparently, the Palm Breeze alcohol spritzer I'm downing right now...either or, I suppose) but reconstructing? No, ma'am...well, yes, ma'am but only upon request. So I look at all the plastic shelves and poles and think, "How hard can this be?"

Let's put it this way, I got the whole thing done and THEN found four small posts that are probably supposed to go on the very bottom...or top- couldn't get them on, shut the garage door and got myself that beverage...at 10:54 in the morning. Jesus would definitely want me to have this.

A Cheap & Chic Chick, who is very thankful for her husband who can do a lot of things...including fixing her fuck ups...cheers, y'all!

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