I need you over here. My H decided that he needed more space for his desk in our home office. So I helped him choose a new desk at Office Depot, and he spend hours trying to put it together. (You would have had it done in minutes, I'm sure.) Now I have his old desk, with all the myriad papers he has no interest in looking at, sitting in the middle of the study, his new desk, almost all the way put together except for a couple of screws he couldn't find and doesn't know what to do about, and enormous cardboard boxes and packing material strewn about. And he thinks he's done. I feel like Mt. Vesuvius about to explode! Things were just fine til he started this, now he will go off to work on Monday, and I will have to find a way to get the old desk into the garage and all the packaging out to the trash if I want to sit at my desk and do any work at all. Why could I have not married a capable man?
