In one of my favorite children's books of all time, "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day", our titular character bemoans lists of grievances of his terrible day. He wakes up with gum stuck in his hair, and it just goes downhill from there. Every few pages, Alexander contemplates moving to Australia, and these days, I feel that in my soul.
Today for me, was one of those terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days. Actually, the day wasn't all bad, but my afternoon and evening frustrated me to meltdown territory.
About a month ago, I ordered a new swivel office chair off of TikTok shop, despite know the perils that come from ordering things from an app I know every time I open it will just feed into my carnal desires. When it arrived, it was straight up impossible to put together. The little holes where the screws go just WOULD NOT line up, because of the way the cushion was designed and WHY THE HECK was the cushion DESIGNED THIS WAY when you know it needs to be ASSEMBLED?
Anyway.
I did manage to finally assemble it, after watching multiple videos and resorting to leaning the bottom part of the chair against the coffee table while I sat my butt on the top half to try and finagle the position for the stupid little holes to line up and I DID IT and... there's no wheels.
Who the f--k makes an OFFICE CHAIR with no WHEELS?! I was angry with TikTok shop, and my own impulsive spending, and the general problems with late stage capitalism and consumer culture. But then I was on Tiktok a few weeks later, and I saw there was an attachment you could buy to put wheels on it.
So yes, I did purchase a separate attachment that cost nearly as much as the original chair to solve a problem THEY HAD CREATED.
Anyway.
The wheel attachment arrived this afternoon. It was a long day of teaching, hot in the sun, but I was determined to build the chair and be all boss babe girl boss handywoman I got this.
I did not.
I wanted to make ratatouille for dinner, using some summer vegetables and my cast iron pan. I would cook my dinner, I would build my chair, I would have a lovely quiet evening.
Jump two hours ahead to me sobbing on the phone with my dad because this STUPID CHAIR IS NOT WORKING IT'S JUST NOT!
So, fun fact about ratatouille: there's a lot of steps. There's the cutting and the chopping and the roasting and the simmering and the baking in the oven. I get off work at 5:30 pm. In retrospect, I probably should've made avocado toast.
So as my squash is browning, and then quickly on the verge of burning, and I am slamming a hammer into the foundation of the chair because I need that little part and it just won't come OUT and...
I lost it. I sat on my floor and I cried, and I wanted to call my dad for advice but my phone was somewhere in the mess of packaging and general clutter, and I had enough.
Maybe I'll move to Australia.
I finally found my phone and called both my parents, because they were at a restaurant eating a dinner prepared by someone else that was NOT setting off the smoke alarm in the apartment and finally my mom picked up and I just...I cried.
It was the heavy heaving kind of tears, screaming and sobbing and cursing every stupid chair manufacturer and poorly planned out executive planning skills and just so much overwhelm at 8:30 pm on a Wednesday.
And my parents listened, and helped me to breathe through the anger and exhaustion and frustration. And my dad told me to take a shower or a bath (that helps regulate my body temperature when I am overwhelmed with emotion), and my mom suggested I watch Parks and Recreation to distract myself and have a quiet evening.
I did that, and I felt better.
I put the entire pot of ratatouille in the fridge because I didn't have it in me to package it up all neatly. And I put my dishes in the sink and I let them soak. And I grabbed my coziest pajama shirt and I got in bed and I wrote this blog post.
Because, as is clear by now, my office chair was no longer an option.
And my body has settled, my brain is quieting. I can go to sleep now and sleep deeply and tomorrow will be a new day.
Because some days are just like that.
Even in Australia.
