Nantes – The Meltdown

I thought I was handling it okay until I spent an entire evening shouting, screaming and sobbing (in this particular order).

Of course, by “it,” I mean the weird, uncomfortable situation most of us are in because of the pandemic and associated restrictions—my own current “it” is being somewhat stuck in France with Feng and Mark stuck in Canada.

It all started with a lovely, brand-new IKEA bed frame (with built-in storage!) and mattress. It was my idea and project, an attempt to do something constructive and upgrade my mom’s apartment while I’m staying here. Also, to be honest, I was getting sick of the sofa bed with a broken slat.

The evening after I got my first Pfizer shot, I bought the mattress and bed frame I had been eyeing for a few weeks to celebrate my newfound immunity. I splurged on home delivery. We don’t have a car and “curbside click and collect” didn’t sound like an option because I couldn’t picture myself taking the tramway with five 20-kilo boxes.

It took a couple of weeks for the purchase to be delivered—clearly, I’m not the only one tackling home improvement project during a “light” version of lockdown. It went smoothly, though, and I was very happy to learn that the two delivery guys would actually take the not-so-flat boxes to the second floor, no elevator.

They left and I inspected the five boxes taking most of the hallway. Surely, I could take it from here. I’m not new to IKEA furniture assembly. Over the years, Feng and I put together four large bookshelves, two smaller ones and a dresser. I assembled the red three-drawer chest in my bedroom/office alone.

 “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” I told my mom.

“How long do you think it’s going to take?”

“… a couple of hours, maybe?”

This Thursday night, after spending five hours assembling most of the frame, I gave up at 11 p.m. at the drawer stage and decided to just put the mattress on top of the half-finished project. “Hope you’re live streaming it,” Feng joked when I saw me in just my undies, hammer in hand, on Skype. “I can’t see you, mom,” Mark complained a few minutes later. “That’s because I’m screwing stuff together, sorry,” I replied from a very uncomfortable position. “Why don’t you read me another chapter of your book?”

The next day, on Friday evening, I started working on the IKEA bed project earlier. I only had to assemble the six drawers, slide them in and add bed slats, then I’d be able to tackle the rest of the day which included delivering groceries to my mamie, cooking dinner, chatting with Mark and Feng, working and eventually eating and getting the best night’s sleep ever.

Assembling drawers is a repetitive task but it’s pretty easy.

A tad tedious, though, because this specific model featured “ample storage space,” so six big drawers.

“Almost done!” I told Feng when he called me. I checked my watch. Damn. It was getting late again. “I just have to slide drawers in!”

Feng made a face. “Ah, yeah… the drawers… I remember the drawers for Mark’s dresser. Ahem, good luck.”

The first drawer went in just fine—beginner’s luck.

It was harder for the second one.

The third didn’t close all the way and was somewhat higher than the other two.

I took it out, put it back in, tried dozens of different tricks, lifting it, tilting it…

Nope.

“PUTAIN!” I screamed. “FUCK THAT SHIT!”

It all went downhill from here. It was getting late, I was getting tired and suddenly it felt like everything was just too much work—not just the bed, life in general. Why did I even bother? What was the point of all this?

I stormed out, went for a walk, came back still angry at the drawers, at IKEA, at my apparent inability to decipher made-in-Sweden instructions and at the world.

The sobbing stage started shortly after I somehow found the secret drawer slide trick and completed the project. “Everything I love is gone! It’s not okay to live in a constant state of uncertainty! I want to be happy again but I don’t know how!” I cried looking at the bed.

“I want to see my friends, I want to travel without having to choose the country I’ll be locked in, I want Mark to have a normal school experience and I need to buy a fucking pair of socks!”

You’re probably in the same boat—somehow functioning but feeling as if you were trapped in a black-and-white silent movie. Many of life’s simple pleasures are just gone, from hanging out outside with friends to going to a movie theatre.

I don’t have it too bad in Europe—I got my first dose and France’s four-stage reopening plan is underway. Meanwhile, in Ontario, the stay-at-home order issued on April 8 has been extended until at least June 2 and schools are still closed.

In case you were wondering, I have no idea when I’ll be able to go back to Canada—and I’m not going through multiple COVID tests plus hotel quarantine plus home quarantine once I’m fully vaccinated, thank you very much… not to mention that I’m probably going to be stuck in Canada afterwards with the border still closed and “non essential” travel banned, including between provinces.

The bed is fine, by the way.

Sometime I am too, just not every day.