Silly me, I thought that when I left David Nathaniel and Guy H back in another state I would maybe be able to leave the usual state of projects behind. Because I was never a fan of our usual state of projects. Whenever we had a sort of projecct to do, it always evolved from something simple and easy into something incredibly complicated. For instance, we would go to install a ceiling fan and before all was said and done we would be soddering pipes in the basement because we would have had to have removed the pipes to access the junction box for the electricity so that we could pull the old knob and tube wiring from here it ran in because we found out that the new stuff that we were running couldn't hook into the existing. And so on and so forth. That's just how it always went.
So anyway, I was hoping that I would be able to leave those types of shenanegans behind. I really did. But alas no. I learned today, to my dismay, that I am the common denomonator in the string of these stories. Like, if these stories were fractions, I would be the common denomonator that one would have to use to do addition or multiplication. Maybe some long division. Anyway, I learned that the curse is me, because today Mike-a-licious decided that we were going to engage in a realtively simple, normal, everyday activity. We were going to move all the stuff from his guest bedroom into the basement in order to clear space in the bedroom.
Sounds simple enough, right? We thought so. Thousands of people around the world have done this thousands of times with no problem whatsoever. I am not thousands of people though. Since I am cursed it turned into a massive cluster. I am not sure what was running through Mike-a-licious' head, but I am guessing that it was a mixture of cursing me and wondering what the hell he got himself into. The reason that this nasty mixture of thoughts would be running through his head is because he was in the process of deconstructing his house.
Yeah, you read that right. Here is how it all went down: literally, please excuse the pun. We got the dresser down the stairs with no problem. We got the mattress down the stairs with no problem. The box spring? Not so much. See, box springs, unlike their mattress cousins, are rigid. They don't bend and flex at all, which means that it is fairly easy to wedge into areas that the mattress went through with relative ease. So of course we got the box spring wedged into the stairway down to the basement. And I mean wedged in. Couldn't move up, down, left, right, any way really. Yeah, it had turned into a Big Dave Project. Right at the moment that it couldn't move anymore that's what it got turned into. So once the railings and wooden structures lining the actual stairs were removed everything was peachy.
The signs of future trouble, though, showed when we were reconstructing Mike-a-licious' house after the box spring had finally given in. Wod was splitting. Things weren't going back together exactly as they should have been, as would be expected. But we will all forget about that I am sure before the next time that we have to do something, which will inevitably turn into the same, overly complicated thing. But that is the fun of the whole thing, now isn't it?