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.
I’m sorry that you’re stuck that way, it’s been so long … I wish that at least Feng and Mark could join you… hopefully we’ll start to get better news soon. Take care ***
I hope it does get better in Canada. Travel restrictions (namely, quarantine) are our biggest issue now, things are going relatively well in France.
https://www.smbc-comics.com/comic/life-as-a-berserker
YES! 😆
I also had a bit of an episode this morning. Our age group is finally eligible here in Ontario, but they opened it up to all adults in one fell swoop, so everything booked up within hours. If I were you, I would stay there until you get your second shot (I assume France isn’t waiting months between shots like we are). Maybe we’ll even be out of lockdown by then!!
Nope, you’ll still be in lockdown 😆 My second shot is at the end of the month (currently 4-6 weeks between both shots). But since even vaccinated I have to go through the whole quarantine dance, I’m not exactly rushing back :-/
I am glad that you finally put your bed together. It gives me some hope. I bought a used storage bed with 6 drawers off of Kijiji. There were no instructions, so after 5 hours of trial and error I had it somewhat put together. The drawers didn’t fit right but I was too tired to care so I just threw the mattress on it went to sleep. I think that I will have to saw the bottom layer of drawers off as it will be too high once I put a Zinus 4 inch memory foam mattress topper on it.
It has been very hot in Regina over the last week and everyone is happy that the Government ended the lock down and we can finally go out to cafés. It is now 33.6 C with 17 per cent humidity so it is tolerable. I generally can’t stand anything above 25 C if there is high humidity as I hate being sweaty. The streets are deserted as most people that can are out at the lake or the cottage. I was going to plant a garden but it is supposed to snow on Friday night so I will wait until after our Queen’s birthday on the 21st.
I see in the news that things are getting better in Ontario so I am guessing that we should be getting back too normal in another month as we approach herd immunity across the country and across the line. Saskatchewan is 54 per cent vaccinated now. I guess that old saying “it is always darkest before the dawn” applies in this situation. My Father had another saying that he learned in WWII as he prepared for battle, “Hurry up and wait”. That saying feels more applicable.
Happy Victoria Day long weekend!
I like your father’s wisdom (and yours, by extension). And I’m happy I don’t see SK too much in the news, it means the situation is kind of under control unlike in Ontario, Manitoba or Alberta. I really, really hope the situation improves but I’m scared of the “COVID Zero” approach Canada seems to have choosen–I don’t think it’s doable and I’m tired of seeing goalposts moved constantly, especially the “being vaccinated isn’t enough”.
What keeps you going these days? Wisdom, I assume… but I’m sure you’re missing the old normal as much as I do.
Sometimes we need to have a meltdown. It’s happened to me too (for reasons not related to the pandemic). And sometimes it’s one (sometimes small, sometimes surprising) thing that sets it off, as you said. Hope you can travel home soon.
Good job on the assembly!!
Virtual hug for your most recent meltdown. I hope you’re feeling better now.
Expressing feeling is probably better in the long run although I wish I could have done it more… ahem, creatively.
Hugs. That’s not easy. You are handling it the best you can. That’s all you (and we ) can do now.
Hug back.
Thank you.