Why can’t I put together a chair?

Today, on our last day at our condo in Florida before we head north for Christmas in the snow, we tried to put together a table and chair set for the patio. We bought it the last time we were here, and it never got assembled. So assemble it we did. Or tried to, anyway.

Once we figured out how the nuts and bolts and screws went (literally, I had to remind myself which was which), I couldn’t manage to nudge together the three pieces that were to be held with ONE screw. I didn’t have the strength. Then, the decision on which hole to put these in looked different to me, in the picture on the box, but he was right. The table was a snap, and we kept trying to finish one chair. “The screw is big enough,” I said. “ “No, it isn’t,” my husband contended. Again, he was on target.  Finally, we figured out a piece of one chair was bent the wrong way. Nothing to do about that but find another screw. Which was not in the house, of course.

What would have taken an hour turned into a two and ½ hour deal. Geez.

Afterward, I kept thinking, “Why couldn’t I do that assemblage?” I wasn’t strong enough, I didn’t see the spacial differences correctly, and the screw thing just didn’t make sense to me.

I have other talents, I know. I can wake up in the morning and have a full chapter outlined in my head—and then write it. I’m great with people. I can listen, counsel and basically, help them. I guess I’m a good wife, mom and friend. But this inability really ticked me off.  I SHOULD be able to put a freaking chair together.

Then I thought about what was important to me. Recently, I had my website redone by a professional, and I vowed to learn how to create a new page, update my blog, add pictures and wrap text around it. (I won’t tell you how long it took to do the latter. Did you know that the text wraps in the actual website page, and not on the working page?) Anyway, my point is, I did teach myself how to do all this. (Widgets—not conquered that one, yet.) So I guess I can learn. I suppose if I spent as much time on putting chairs together as I did learning how to update my website I’d be able to do it—except for the strength thing, maybe.

My point? Know your limitations, and don’t resent them. (Maybe I’ll feel that way tomorrow about the chair.) If something is really important to you, you can find a way to learn it if you take enough time. But mostly, set your priorities. What do you really want to be doing? Not chairs for me, I guess.

I think I’ll go write another chapter.