I can grunt any old time I want. I don’t need any Tim the Tool-Man Taylor to do it for me. You want to talk about more power? Let’s talk about the power behind a woman on a mission!
That’s right. Today I put all you men to shame. I strapped on my sexy toolbelt and went to work. Yes, that’s right. I have my very own sexy tool belt. I know you are jealous. Just admit it. And you better frickin’ believe that there’s no butt cleavage due to my belt. I leave that to the plumbers. Sorry boys. Baby got back, but no cleavage for you!
Last week I purchased a kitchen butcher block topped cart. Just a little thing to help me with a touch more counter space and cabinetry. You see, I live in The Kitchen of Doom. The person who designed my house must have been rich. Yeah, because this place is ritzy. Not! No, because the kitchen is next to impossible to truly cook in. You have no pantry space and less counter top for food prep. Seriously, this designer needs to be publicly flogged.
Well, you all know how it goes. This and that and the other thing all come up and so here it is, Tuesday, and I still have this crate in my kitchen. Taking up space. Impeding my attempts to clean my kitchen. Mocking me with its promise of useful space.
And that is when I did it. I took matter into my own hands. I whipped out the handy dandy tools and went to work. The box quickly sliced open. Various pieces emerged. Large pieces of woods, little baggies of screws. All your various parts to furniture.
Away I went, lost in the land of hammers, screwdrivers, and wood. Listening to my podcasts and working hard.
My work done, I dusted my hands off. I admired my prize. And then I schlepped it into the kitchen. I have not decided yet how it will be best utilized. It may take me three or four rearrangements of my kitchen to fully make up my mind. For now, it is nice just knowing the project is done.
It’s 6:33. Do you know where your hammer is?
Originally posted on ladyozma.vox.com