all you need is a drill

Hey y'all,

There are two people to blame for the title of this post.
1. The Yarn Harlot: for choosing to re-do her master bedroom because she "felt like surprising her husband"while he was gone away for a few days (her progress is documented on her blog this week)... a wee bit of inspiration...

... and...

2. (most importantly) My Dad: who decided very early in my life that I, as his only daughter, was in no way going to get through this life without early exposure to tools, thus resulting in a variety of tool gifts over the years such as a complete set of screwdrivers and this handy dandy cordless drill that you see in this picture.

Unfortunately, the drill languished a little in the basement these past few years (screwdrivers adequately and appropriately worn out, Dad, don't worry) because, quite frankly, I was afraid of it and afraid of using it. I mean, a lot of damage can happen with just one wrong little move of a drill and since I'm someone who can't eat without spilling food on my shirt (thanks Mom), the potential for disaster is apocalyptical when you allow me to be unsupervised and alone with a drill.

It all came to an end a few weeks ago when I finally realized that the cute little chalkboard meant for the kitchen wall was going to meet its maker (the mice chewing on it) in the corner on the floor if I didn't do something about it. I mean, I had been kind of hoping that it would drill itself to the wall, but when was the last time you saw something drill itself to the wall?

On a wing and a prayer, I hooked up the drill, fastened on a bit (the right size, Dad - I did listen to you, you know) and not TWENTY minutes later, there was a chalkboard on the kitchen wall, like this:







I am woman. Hear me roar. Of course, I immediately ran to the door to make sure the world wasn't ending. It didn't (duh).

So, while some might consider this a small and relatively unimportant event in their life, I'm pretty sure that it has changed the trajectory of mine. All of a sudden, a world has opened itself to me: a world of putting up curtains by myself, of putting up shelves, of hanging mirrors, and, OF COURSE, the nadir, nirvana, peak of self-actualization for any woman who has just learned to use a drill....


.... putting together IKEA furniture.

Oh. My. GOD. You know that IKEA commercial where the mother is talking so much about her new IKEA bedroom furniture that her daughter threatens to shave her head if she doesn't shut up and then, in the next scene, the mother is still jabbering on and she's shaving the daughter's hair off? Something of that nature could possibly happen to me. Just so you know, my ability to use a drill has come along with my acquisition of a new car that is a hatchback with a sizeable trunk and seats that fold down. There are innumerable permutations here, people - new car, big trunk, IKEA furniture... !!!!! 100 % Possibilities!!!!

So, over the past two days, I have purchased, transported home, organized, planned and built a new dresser. Well, my sweetheart helped me get started (thank God, because, seriously, the dresser would have been inside out and upside down, but who cares, I got to use the drill).



To finally conclude, we went from this (halfway through because I forgot to take a picture):



... note the prominent placement of the drill...














to this:

And now, I don't know what was more exhausting, writing this post, or actually constructing the dresser. Seriously.