So, last night my futon broke. It, being a futon, is our couch and the bed I sleep on when the girls aren't at their dad's house. (which is most nights) I think something unscrewed and one whole side came down, pulling out the mission style slats under the arm.
I seem to be going through another break cycle in my life. I'll be humming along, not really noticing how good I have it and then, bam! Things start breaking down. It didn't happen when I was younger so much, because until my mid-twenties, I could fit pretty much everything I owned in a backpack and one of those huge army duffel bags. As my brother says, the less bells and whistles you have, the less things that go wrong. But now I own things, and things eventually fall apart. This past month has just been a painful reminder of that.
I would like to say I calmly surveyed the damage, trusted my instincts and fixed the situation, but I think you all know me better than that. I don't ever trust my instincts, because they always tell me to spaz. I did survey the situation and called in Stinky, who is the one in our family who can fix things, to help me figure it out. We tried a bunch of stuff, but there are little nail thingys that keep the slats in their places and most of those nails had been pulled out and twisted. I tried for over an hour to get the dowel thingys in their holes and the nails back in the wood, but it never quite fit together. I stepped away from the whole mess, thinking that I was so not above, just duct taping that whole side and hoping for the best. Instead, I threw my futon down on the floor and decided to sleep on it. (literally and figuratively)
When I woke up today, I had an amazing idea. I would go to The Futon Store and see if they could fix it. The guy at the store told me to bring it in and they'd see what they could do. This is the first time in years and years, that I've had enough money (read, credit) to pay someone to fix shit for me. I doesn't seem quite real. I'm sure I sounded like a total hillbilly at the store when I said, "You mean to tell me that alls I gots to do, is bring that puppy in here and ya'll 'll put it back together for me, for just a little bit of money? Well, shooooot. Hot damn!"
So, tomorrow, I'm going to take my futon couch apart and bring the right arm in to see if the futon guys can make it all better for me. After Stinky helped me work on it last night, I apologized for being stressed out and said I hoped she didn't feel like I was taking anything out on her. She replied, "No. You were good. I just knew you were upset, because you kept saying the F word. I wanted to laugh, but I remembered how you say there are times when you can laugh at yourself, and other times when you won't think it's funny, and I thought this was one of those times." Stinky has never been more right.