Self-Assembly Furniture, I Hate You

Self-assembly furniture, let me count the ways I hate you:

I hate your father, Ikea, for inventing you as a concept.  Swedish meatballs and child care facilities are little consolation.

I hate you for looking so good in pictures and SO not good in real life.  My assumption is that the people who photograph you do the same for fast food restaurants, making their dehydrated burgers look robust, fresh and juicy.  You are both evil.

Ikea self-assembly bookcase

Who amongst us hasn’t self-assembled this Ikea classic?

I hate your instruction manual.  How am I supposed to be able to tell the difference between shelf a,b,c,d,e,f or g, especially since the “artist” who sketched you has likely never seen you nor an art class for that matter.

I hate you because there is always one imperfection in your prefabrication, and it always seems to become apparent just as you are almost entirely assembled.  The next 30 minutes are undoubtedly spent staring with furrowed brow at aforementioned instructions trying to figure out where the assembly went awry.

I hate that half of the screws manufactured in whichever country you hail from, of every imaginable length, are in seven different baggies enclosed somewhere in your packaging.  Of course, it is a safe bet that I will still come up one screw short.

You are the hot dog of wood.  You are scum.

I hate that I have a hole in my hand from all those damn screws.  Why did you tell me I wasn’t allowed to use power tools?  Please remind me again.

I hate that you steal every last free second that I have, and seem to get pleasure from this.

I hate that you sit on my porch for a week as I delay opening your ridiculously large shipping box that is loaded with enough foam to kill half of the earth’s sea turtles.

I hate that you are such a liar.  You say you are easy to assemble, yet recommend that “two grown adults” take part.  Should I also wear a helmet and a back brace?

I hate that you are made of an unidentifiable hodgepodge of wood.  You are the hot dog of wood.  You are scum.

I hate that my wife keeps telling me, “This is the last piece, I promise.”  At least she got the “piece” part right.

But mostly, I hate that since you came out all types of consumer products are now self-assembly.  “Some assembly required” is your legacy.  Rot it hell, self-assembly furniture.  Rot in hell.