I am an independent woman: enter Destiny's Child theme music "all the women who independent throw your hands up at me". And I'm proud to be an independent woman. I honestly don't mind killing bugs, lawn work or taking out the trash but there are a few things in life that I am glad to say I can do alone but would be just fine never doing again. Let's go through the list...
Flipping a mattress. Reason #3,756 that sometimes it sucks to be single and/or live alone sometimes. Please tell me some of you have tried this? It is damn near impossible and you will knock over your bedside table lamp at least once. You will also have a brief moment of panic when you find yourself with the mattress across your back and no leverage where your body is smashed between the pillowtop and your box springs and you will think to yourself "Is this how it happens? Death by mattress?" and wonder how many days it will take for someone to find you and wish you would have worn your cute pajamas last night instead of your favorite oversized holey tshirt and granny panties. Dammit.
Building anything from Ikea. I think the people that write assembly directions for Ikea are seriously twisted and find sick pleasure in knowing that when they leave the picture of that one screw out on the first page of directions or mysteriously jump from step 4 to 7 they are mind-fucking innocent people. Honestly, has anyone ever successfully built anything from Ikea requiring four steps or more without wanting to shoot someone in the face? I highly doubt it. You better be mentally prepared and well-rested before you take on anything Ikea and I believe it is unsafe to do alone which is why putting together furniture is reason #2,482. This one is risky though so be careful. If you do attempt this alone, it is equal to 30 days of solitary confinement where you are alone with your thoughts and as much as you tell yourself you aren't crazy when after the seventh try those pieces still don't fit together but it looks JUST LIKE THE PICTURE you know you have gone mad. Literally. Honestly, you will need some Xanax and perhaps an anti-psychotic nearby in this instance. On the other hand, I'm not sure on the statistics but I'd venture to say building Ikea furniture with a husband, boyfriend, sibling, parent or friend has resulted in divorce, break ups, falling outs, emancipation and murder. Seriously.
Moving. Myself and three of my girlfriends once moved two apartments to one house all by ourselves. We moved everything with just the four of us. Dressers, couches and even an antique buffet. Yay us. But NEVER AGAIN. It still baffles me how incredibly sore you can be after a big move and what is up with all the scratches and bruises all over your legs and arms from the boxes? Geez! And not a good look! So, single or attached, chuck some money at it and be done with it. There is a reason there are professional movers in this world so let the experts be experts and move your shit for you. Amen.
Getting something down from the attic. Is it just a girl thing or do guys hate the attic as well? While single, I try to refrain from a) putting anything up in the attic so I can avoid b) getting anything down from the attic. It might be the worst household chore on the entire list. Did I mention I hate the attic? You may be wondering why so much disdain for the attic. Well, think about it. It usually requires crawling up a very unsteady ladder that may or may not properly swing down from the ceiling and makes a funny noise every time you take a step. Then crawling around in a dark, cramped, totally awkward space on your hands and knees or standing all hunched over to avoid hitting your head. All while carrying a flashlight most likely unless you are lucky enough to have an attic light which you will probably never find because you rarely go up to the attic and have forgotten where it is. And finally, never finding what you went up to the attick to look for in the first place. What a waste! Anyway, I long for the day when I can ask someone else to please "get blah blah blah down from the attic" or whatever other creepy space I might have like a garage closet, shed or unfinished basement.
Going to Home Depot. Reason #1,275. As soon as I enter, I empathize with every man who has ever walked into an Ulta or Sephora unaccompanied. I have literally not a clue what most of the things inside are or what they would be used for. Plus, I feel as if most people are staring at me and laughing inside at my visable stuper. Luckily, there are big signs that can point me in the right direction - Lumber (yeah right), Electrical (are you kidding?), Lighting (this is where light bulbs will be, no?), etc. Did I recently walk in and head straight to Flooring where I had a nice man cut me a 30'x6' piece of contractor carpet padding and artificial turf? Yes, I did. Did I enjoy it? No, I did not. This type of thing can gladly go on my man's Honey-Do list one day. No offense, but Sianara HD.
Getting my oil changed. Actually, I've gotten pretty used to doing this by myself and feel pretty comfortable with it. But at first, I think it's terrifying. Similar to Home Depot, these guys are talking a mile a minute about a bunch of crap I don't understand or care about honestly but I'm here because my Dad always told me to be sure to get my oil changed every 3 months and now the sticker says it's been 6 months. First, you have to drive in the garage and align your car over the open space in the ground. I'm willing to bet many of you have not mastered this skill either. So there you are, with all the men staring at you, turning your wheels left to right and back again trying not to run over anything. It is pure torture. Then you wait inside until the inevitable happens - the dude comes in to show you the air filter. Yes, it looks dirty but how dirty is normal and how dirty is problematic? How am I to know? And he may also want to show you the color of one of your cars many fluids. Again, yes the brake fluid looks brown but it has been hanging out inside a car for years, correct? In those circunstances, brown seems like a pretty typical color to me. You finally get the hell out of there, fully stocked with free windshield wiper fluid, and hopefully without having been pressured into spending more than the $39.95 oil change coupon was worth but most likely secretly worrying that your car might blow up since you didn't flush your engine like they recommended. Damn you Grease Monkey. Until we meet again.
Changing A Tire. So, I can name a few times I've had to do this and luckily I've always had another femme fetale on hand to assist. Once was in the rain, on a California highway on the way back from wine country with my friends Wendy & Kristin. The lug wrench was not working so well and I recall Wendy and I both STANDING on the bars trying to get it to rotate. I believe that ended with about 3 hours at a Round Robin restaurant waiting for a local auto shop to replace the tire. Super awesome. Another incident happened at my sisters in her apartment complex parking lot. Better conditions than roadside in the rain for sure but still a daunting task. I'm 99% certain that the jack for my car sucks ass as it never seems to jack the car up enough (surely it can't be user error, right?) and as I'm laying on the ground trying to force it up just a few more inches a gentleman walks by and instead of stopping to lend a hand he sarcastically snarks "I would move my legs out from under that car in case it falls" as he whizzes by us on his way to his car. Well, thank you kind sir. I'm so relieved that chivalry is not dead. My hero. Shout out to the maintenance guy who DID stop to help us complete with bringing a bigger, better jack. And finally, the most recent incident didn't involve changing a tire but rather using a tire pump on a rainy Sunday (what is it with me, tires and rain!?!?!) in arguably the most sketchy part of downtown dallas. Two words - Double Wide. You locals get my drift. Another shout out to the guys at Auto Zone for recommending a stellar tire pump that now lives in the back of my car for emergencies and my Discount Tire dudes for flirting with me and giving me a great deal on new tires (oh yeah, they had been slashed. Awesome). I think I've made my point. Changing/Pumping/Buying tires super sucks. Reason #4,951.
So in summary: Yes, I can DO all of these things but I don't wanna! All the ladies who truly feel me throw your hands up at me!
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