23 Sep 09 |
I moved into a new apartment recently and thought I’d save a few bucks by buying unassembled furniture to help furnish it. Not that I had the time to start jacking around with a screwdriver, wrench, or hammer, but I figured the savings was big enough to make it worth my while. Besides, it wasn’t like I was a neophyte with a set of tools. When my daughters were younger, I did my share of assemblage. Swing-sets . . . ones that usually came with 12 extra screws and a spare thingamagig. Tree-houses . . . most of which toppled out of the oak tree the moment I stepped onto the floor to test it. And doll-houses . . .my middle daughter thought the lopsided structure worked better as a doghouse. Okay, so I might not be the best carpenter in the world, but I was good enough to make it good enough. Know what I mean?
Anyway, I started off with what appeared to be the easiest project first, a bookshelf. I ripped open the box and out tumbled—a bunch of stuff. Fortunately, an instruction book was amongst the ‘stuff’. Or at least I thought it was fortunate until I opened the damn thing. Get a load of this . . .
Get the picture? This is one of the reasons why so few people are reading today! Everything in the instruction booklet was pictorial. Not one line of written instruction! Figures. Isn’t that the new standard in today’s society? Instead of focusing on literacy so more people can actually read a set of instructions, we’ve got to dummy stuff down to make it easier for those who can’t. Grrrr. . . .
Oh, yeah, the book offered another caveat. You know how most instruction manuals are tri-lingual? One-third’s written in English, another third in Spanish, and the final third either in French or German? Well, this stupid book was no different. What the heck is that about? If you’re going to dummy down, then just figure a picture is a picture, right? I mean, even if I only spoke German and every odd shaped screw pictured was labeled in French, I think I’d still be capable of working my way through the pictorial instructions for heaven’s sake. Or so I thought . . .
Let me tell you, friends, working with pictures alone ain’t as easy as it looks, no matter the language! It took me forever to assemble those shelves. Was sidewall A supposed to face finished-side up or down during assembly? And what purpose does that squiggly thingamagig serve? Does the bookshelf REALLY need it?
In case you’re wondering, the shelf did just fine without that stupid thingamagig. See?

I’ve just got to make sure to shove the books against the back of the case. Too close to the front, and it has a tendency to , uh . . . lean. What the hell, it’s good enough.
Anyway, seven pieces of furniture later . . . four kitchen chairs, an accompanying bench and table, plus a coffee table, and not one ‘extra’ screw or thingamagig…. I was feeling like Tonia the Tool-girl Taylor!


No doubt about it, I was really jazzed . . . until I tackled the final project.
Sitting in what was supposed to be my bedroom was a huge box labeled; QUEEN BED. I sucked in a breath, opened the box, and a load of lumber fell out. Literally. Accompanying that lumber was, of course, the ever handy-dandy pictorial instruction manual.


This twenty page booklet claimed it took only two hours to assemble the bed. Yeah, right. More like two days! It was the proverbial nightmare. Not one board was lettered or numbered, so you had to guess which plank went where by looking at the holes (size and/or number of holes) in the board depicted in the picture and match it to one of the thirty some-odd pieces of wood strewn across the floor.
I lost count of the number of times I put a section of that bed together only to take it apart again because I’d attached a board backwards. I also lost count of the times I wanted to chunk every friggin’ board out the window and head to the nearest furniture store.
Sadly, when the bed was finally assembled and the mattress didn’t cause it to collapse, I felt no sense of accomplishment. Just frustration and irritation. But I have to admit, I learned two valuable lessons throughout the whole ordeal.
1. Sometimes it’s worth spending a little extra money if it means saving your sanity.
2. When it comes to assembling furniture, the old adage, “A picture’s worth a thousand words,” does NOT apply.
















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Have you tried assembling a gas grill? Talk about your challenge. Even hubby cursed that one.
Your bed reminds me of my trip to England. I’d flown over for a celebration of my daughter’s marriage (her inlaws are British and wanted to have a second ceremony over there). I arrived mid-morning and by evening was ready to call it a night. The inlaws were giving me use of a flat about 2 blocks away, one they’d just purchased.
My daughter said, “We haven’t made the bed yet.” I told her I didn’t care, just give me the sheets and I could make it myself.
You guessed it. They hadn’t MADE the bed yet. It was still in a box. The three of us managed to figure out which board went where, but it took some doing. Thank goodness for the cordless drill’s screwdriver attachment. And I learned that an Allen wrench in England is an Allen key.
by Terry Odell September 23rd, 2009 at 4:53 amArrg, Terry, that must have been something to face at the end of a long day! At least you had some help.
BTW, as for an allen wrench…I’d love to know what idiot came up with that bright idea. It’s an awkward tool to handle. And the whacko that created the screws WITH funky holes that require an allen wrench just needs to be shot in my opinion…grrr
by deborah September 23rd, 2009 at 9:14 amDeb, the word for you is intrepid. I love that you made your own furniture!
When I was a junior in high school, in the last sixties, my mom bought a new “dinette” set for the kitchen, which was delivered one afternoon when I was home alone. So I decided to put it together, all by my lonesome. She was astonished when she got home from work and was able to serve dinner there that night. Since then I’ve enjoyed figuring out and assembling countless things, but still remember the amazing sense of accomplishment and empowerment that table and chair set gave me.
Enjoy your lovely new furniture, and mazel tov on your new home.
by Karen in Ohio September 23rd, 2009 at 6:27 amThanks, Karen.
by deborah September 23rd, 2009 at 9:27 amYou go, girl! Your furniture looks awesome. I swear, the drawings and directions never match. Once my husband and I got so frustrated that we called the 800 number listed on the instructions. The man directed us to a video on You-Tube that showed exactly how to put it together–nothing like the drawing or instructions!!!!
by Debra Webb September 23rd, 2009 at 9:08 amThanks, Deb! Man, oh, man, as frustrated as I was with that bed, if I’d have been stuck calling someone on an 800 number to finish that bed, that poor person would have needed two years of therapy. lol
by deborah September 23rd, 2009 at 9:30 amIf you have a squiggly thing-a-ma-jig left over from the bookcase, it might be a wall bracket. One end gets screwed to the wall and the other to the bookcase. If it’s not that, well…then I don’t know.
Like Karen, I love assembling furniture. I love watching it all come together and the sense of satisfaction that “I did it.” Next time I move, I’ll be needing new furniture and will like go with do-it-yourself stuff for most of my pieces.
Enjoy your new place!
by Peri September 23rd, 2009 at 11:39 amYou’re probably right, Peri. However, attaching that squiggly thing would mean doing a major disassemble, according to the picture book, and that just ain’t gonna happen. lol
by deborah September 24th, 2009 at 8:25 amYou are a far, far better woman than I, Gunga Din! More power to you! Me? I’ll pay to have it put together! I’m lazy and Lawyer Guy is construction challenged. We put the rescue squad and ambulance on stand-by whenever he picks up a power tool.
by Silver James September 23rd, 2009 at 12:35 pmLOL, SJ. Thank heaven I had a cordless power doohikey. You know, the kind with the gazillion interchangeable screwdriver and drill bits? Without that thing, my right hand, wrist, and arm would have been in traction for a month!
by deborah September 24th, 2009 at 8:30 amLast year I bought a pantry cabinet for my kitchen. We took the stupid thing out of the box and laid out all the matching pieces. Then we attempt to put it together. Well, whatever jackass packed the stupid thing put two right sides in the box. Well we hadn’t exactly been gentle when opening the box so we had to tape it back together so my daughter could lug it back out to Target to exchange it. Thank goodness the second one had all the right pieces.
by Linda Henderson September 23rd, 2009 at 4:13 pmGrrr, Linda, I feel for you! It’s bad enough having to make sense of all the pieces, but to find out you’re missing some of the pieces or have the wrong ones–makes ya wanna chew wood and spit nails!
by deborah September 24th, 2009 at 8:32 amIn our house the husband is the builder and I’m the instruction reader. Yes, I can make sense of those funny pictures. I was going to be an architect and I love reading schematics. The hubbby…..not so much. Hence, I’m the instruction reader.
Kudos on putting it together all by yourself. It looks lovely.
by Jill James September 23rd, 2009 at 4:40 pmThanks, Jill! I envy that those pictures make sense to you. At least now, though, the next time I have a major building project, I know who to call.
by deborah September 24th, 2009 at 8:35 amI’m the one they come to at the library to put things together. I have the patience to put everything out and read the directions. They also know if I get too stuck, my husband will come over and help. He has built about half the bookshelves in our library and is pretty handy. As for assembling furniture at home. We either buy antiques or my DH makes it.
by Patricia Barraclough September 23rd, 2009 at 8:41 pmPatricia, it sounds like the library got a terrific two for one deal when they brought you on board.
by deborah September 24th, 2009 at 8:36 am