Screws (five kinds), dowling & glue
Battling flat-packed furniture is one of life's most annoying yet fulfilling ordeals. I spent 3 hours last night assembling my new computer desk and a little three-drawer cabinet thingie.
The desk pissed me off so much. To begin with, it had already sustained chipping and scuffing in transit. I'm over that now. It took some calming from feast_of_days. I really, really shouldn't drink when putting together furniture.
The desk was so bulky, so ungainly, that I quickly found myself beginning to fume and swear. Now, contrary to the belief of some (you know who you are, ya slut), I don't follow assembly instructions to the letter. Neither do I ignore them (to do so would be just plain stupid, especially when there are three pieces of furniture whose components are thoroughly intermixed). I definitely take note of the inventory provided as I have been left short of components before. Generally, the sequencing makes sense so I follow that, but the instructions seldom take the physics of the real world into account. Apparently, 1.5m lengths of veneered, compressed chipboard weigh nothing and can be magically suspended at odd angles whilst being fastened. That is where I depart from the fine Engrish-stylings. I am always a bit shocked and frustrated when I discover, yet again, that the instructions are a bit fanciful.
Assembling the desk gave me so much grief and took much longer than it would have if I had a proper workspace and some clamps.
The little cabinet was a delight by comparison. Far more complicated than the desk (it had something like three times the components), but so much smaller. It was almost a therapeutic process.
There is a detached return I will assemble next but it can wait. I don't really need it. It came as part of the package. $120 for the whole thing when all I really wanted was the desk.
The desk pissed me off so much. To begin with, it had already sustained chipping and scuffing in transit. I'm over that now. It took some calming from feast_of_days. I really, really shouldn't drink when putting together furniture.
The desk was so bulky, so ungainly, that I quickly found myself beginning to fume and swear. Now, contrary to the belief of some (you know who you are, ya slut), I don't follow assembly instructions to the letter. Neither do I ignore them (to do so would be just plain stupid, especially when there are three pieces of furniture whose components are thoroughly intermixed). I definitely take note of the inventory provided as I have been left short of components before. Generally, the sequencing makes sense so I follow that, but the instructions seldom take the physics of the real world into account. Apparently, 1.5m lengths of veneered, compressed chipboard weigh nothing and can be magically suspended at odd angles whilst being fastened. That is where I depart from the fine Engrish-stylings. I am always a bit shocked and frustrated when I discover, yet again, that the instructions are a bit fanciful.
Assembling the desk gave me so much grief and took much longer than it would have if I had a proper workspace and some clamps.
The little cabinet was a delight by comparison. Far more complicated than the desk (it had something like three times the components), but so much smaller. It was almost a therapeutic process.
There is a detached return I will assemble next but it can wait. I don't really need it. It came as part of the package. $120 for the whole thing when all I really wanted was the desk.