jakorte's blog

I pick up two still semi-connected parts of the wreckage and take one step forward. The back swings around, sliding another propped piece into the bookcase. It’s like time has suddenly decided to go in slow motion for a very agonizing five seconds. “No, No!” I yell. The furniture bits don’t listen. They topple whole heartedly into the bookcase which predictably lurches 10 degrees, bobbles back and then falls with a slam. Again. Either I truly have no neighbor below, or I am just blessed that she is at out at the moment. I viciously rip apart the two remain cheap slabs and move them away from the rubble.

Starting at the top of the pile, I move the other two broken boards against the wall. I raise the book case, and prop that up, as well. The printer seems to be fine, at first. Then I notice the missing panel. Of course it’s the one with the on-off button. And of course, it doesn’t seem to want to go back on. I get it sort of situated and just for fun, decide to hit the on button. The printer comes to life, and that’s a good sign. I struggle for a few minutes with various ways to reattach the board. It’s just not working. I’ll have to take off a piece of the housing. Then I notice a small little latch. Hmmm – hooray! The panel slides open, the electronic board slides back in, and reassembly is complete. I push the on button again, and nothing happens. So, I push it again and it sounds like the printer is shutting down. I push it again, because I’m ridiculous, I know… It turns on! I turn it back off with a self promise to check that it actually works later. I decide a break is in order. I switch the laundry from the washer to the dryer, and then sit down on the couch. It occurs to me this tale might be useful. I could devote an entire chapter to it in that book I want to write. You, know the one? The Young Widow’s Guide to Unusual Circumstances. I think I’ll call this chapter “Undo It Yourself Decorating.”

From my reporting position on the couch I notice the top of the standing pole reading lamp is listing oddly toward the center of the room. The base remains straight. I re-torture myself with a back-flash eyes still open mind movie of the incident. Yep, the book case is the culprit, but it seems the lamp saved the wall from having a huge hole smashed in it. There’s just a gentle gouge behind where I plan to place the bookcase. I slug a consoling cup of iced coffee back, and notice that Miss Fred is curled up against my seated leg. Aw, she looks so cute and sweet, but I’m about to be a meanie and disturb us both by returning to the surreal scene. I gotta see this through. In a perfect world, I’d be done by the time the dryer buzzer goes off. Then I could fold laundry, make dinner, and get back in my happy, dented bubble. Oh, shoot. There’s goes the dryer buzzer. The chicken’s still semi-frozen. I’m simultaneously hyped up on coffee and semi-fried. Guess I’d better get back at it if I plan to finish this escapade by nightfall.

Saturday, 6:38 pm.
I’ve just carried 4 slabs of sort-of wood down 12 steps. 4 times down, 4 times up. Finally, I can see the payoffs of tread milling. Been to the community dumpster and back. That was its own side-experience. I arrived at the same time as an SUV. A younger man emerged with a cigarette dangling lazily from his lips. He threw open the rear gate and began unloading milk crates full of wine bottles. The empties caught my attention in two ways. Once was because I had to carry my wreckage refuse around them. I did a double take trying to determine if there was any one particular type of wine, thinking maybe it was really good and I should try some. I carried another piece of laminated trash around the crates again. In a thick Russian accent, around his cigarette, the fella announced to me, “They’re not all from one weekend, you know!” He misinterpreted my alcoholic interest as judgment. “Too bad,” I thought. He looked like he might be a fun guy to party with. But, instead of saying that, I just laughed and replied, “Good to know, good to know.”

So, time’s flying and not in such a good way. However, chicken’s out of the oven, steak is out of the pan. Rice and veggies have been nuked. Dinner and work lunches for next week have been assembled or packed up. Laundry’s folded and mostly put away. Crisis contained. Thanks to my wonderful friends who keep reading my stories. Without you, I might not ever get anything done.