The Fine Art of Fixing a Doorknob

Oooh a blank page. What do I want to write about today?

How about the fact that the world is made to the specifications of a 200 plus pound male. Ladies, have you ever picked up a hammer and nearly broken a wrist? Ever scewed in anything without repeating the mantra, righty-tighty, lefty-loosey?

I have put together bicycles, chairs, vacuum cleaners, small pieces of furniture, fixed everything that could possibly be broken, and now after cursing my birth, the universe and repeated prayers to God-I have reached the conclusion that this world is made specifically for mind numbing, hulking, butt-crack showing, God fearing men.

Try as I might, to find a smarter way, I still resort to asking a man to do the strong-arm thing they do so well. How many jobs have I left undone (replacing a toilet seat) because the plastic bolts were on too tight. Have you ever tried to hang a mirror or a large piece of art-by yourself? I can mark accurately where the culprit should hang, even buy the hardware I need but I always need the help, usually of a male, to hold whatever while I attach it to the wall. I say usually because I have often asked my daughter but she is previously engaged in the TV remote, drying her hair or any other intellectual pursuit of a can’t–be-bothered young person.

Have you ever cried, meditated or thrown something (like a hammer or a screwdriver) while trying to hang curtains? Has the drill become too heavy and awkward to fit in that tiny space while trying to back out a screw that has been jammed in the wall by a female that had the same physical limitations as you?

I have tried to eliminate this gender barrier by purchasing a ■■lighter and smaller drill-one that I can handle. Unfortunately, the drill is not powerful enough and simply whines and dies before the job is finished. Again, I am left dealing with a job half finished and a plethora of screwdrivers that have the wrong tip or are the wrong size to complete the job.

I know this problem has all the earmarks of “I have fallen and I can’t get up.” In the scheme of things-how much does this matter? A lot. I am, otherwise healthy and wise, and I continue to be plagued with this problem. The other day I was going to spray paint a planter on my patio. It was going to take me five minutes max. I gathered all my tools, laid out newspaper in the grass, and the damn top to the spray paint can wouldn’t budge. Exasperated, I stabbed the top with a screwdriver and after many passes, the lid fell broken to the ground. I managed to misdirect the spray and blotched my hand and fingers. This camo-look would have been perfect if I was hunting in the woods, unfortunately I was going to be teaching in the classroom…■