Made in Vietnam

There are some days where I'd like to think I can rely sheerly on my instincts to get around. There are those days, in fact. Days where I can stumble across Broadway and 47th without opening my bleary eyes, clutching my cup of coffee as taxis zoom by and horse carriages graze the tip of my nose, days where I can just make a run for the empty C subway track, trusting my gut that by the time I reach the edge of the platform, a train will have pulled up to the edge, the doors will have opened, and an empty seat will be waiting for me to occupy. Today was really not one of those days.

I got back from work today with a package awaiting me in the middle of our living room. The middle of the living room is still a wide expanse of nothing, with a couch and a table meekly lining the edge of the space, waiting for something to pull them together. So this package looked like something special, which, in fact, it was. It was the brand new coat tree I had ordered on amazon. This product was meant to be the missing link, THE household item that would scream "YOU'RE HOME" as soon as you walked in to the apartment. Nevermind that we have no microwave or toaster, that just a few weeks ago we were using the air mattress inflator to blow dry our hair, this furniture was going to pull the assorted collection of items in our apartment together to make it a cohesive whole. So I tackled the task of putting together this coat tree with gusto, relying on, what else, but my gut to put together the 5 pieces of coat rack.

I have put together Ikea furniture before without too much grief. Okay, I take that back. Now that I think of it, I think I remember infinitely preferring sticking the wooden pegs holding my bed together into my eyeballs than actually trying to put them in the designated holes, but the long and short of this is that I am now the proud owner of The World's Crookedest Coat Tree. Yes, I managed to foible on the most idiot-proof coat tree in the world. It even came with instructions, which I gave nary a glance to until it was too late. I wish I had my camera here to show you how crooked it is, using my perfect posture as a reference. Only now, I suspect that what with the weight of the world and day, and just of utter defeat, on my shoulders, I would appear just as slumped and tired looking as my brand new coat rack.

However, I am not giving up on this thing. I'm welcoming the new coat rack into this apartment as if it were my own flesh and blood, and I'm going to shower it with so many coats you won't even be able to tell it's crooked.

Today was a long day.