Man DIY Doesn't Ride Again!

Ok, nobody panic, but I think the world may be broken.

Since starting this blog, I’ve started to develop a much more positive attitude to when stuff fucks up, because after all, it’ll make a good blog post, right?

Well, today, Sunny decided that we’d borrow her Mum’s truck, go get some mulch, and re-mulch the front of the house. You know, pretty it up a little bit.

Let me quote Sam, of Sam ’n’ Max fame:

“I was filled with disgust and an odd sense of foreboding.”

This project came under the headings of gardening and DIY, neither of which I have much success with. Regular readers will know that the simplest DIY jobs turn to ratshit if I’m involved in any way.

Basically, I’ve came to the conclusion that I’m an Anthropomorphic Personification (Like Death, Father Time, Jack Frost or The Sandman).

What Anthropomorphic Personification am I?

I’m Murphy the embodiment of Murphy’s Law…God of Fuckups (DIY division to be precise)

Just like the God of Wine has his negative, the ’Oh’ God of hangovers…I am the negative of Lady Luck. The embodiment of Home repair and maintenance gone wrong.

“Oh well.” I thought. “Tonight’s going to be another ‘Man DIY Rides Again’ post.”

It had all the classic hallmarks of a DIY disaster. It involved a trip to Lowe's to get the landscape sheeting to stop the weeds from growing up through the new mulch, giving the sales assitant every opportunity to screw me over. It involved cutting this sheeting with an extremely sharp knife, meaning it had the ‘disastrous but hilarious injury’ potential. It also involve moving a few hundred pounds of mulch (By the way, I love that word…mulch, mulch, mulch…it’s one of those words that sounds dirty, but isn’t…like ‘flange’ and ‘gusset’.)

As far as I was concerned, I was all set. I’d attempt the job, fuck it up royally, the cat would make a cameo while trying to kill me, and I’d be sitting here now, injured, annoyed, but with something funny to write. I’m Murphy, remember? It’s my job. I’m the Shadow that defines the Light. Without my royal screw-ups, there could be no ‘job well done’s’

However, what happened went beyond Murphy‘s Law. It was damn right freaky.

We went and got the mulch. Brought it home, and it didn’t blow out of the back of the truck, and did not result in a scary but humorous encounter with the SC Highway patrol.

Then I laid out the Landscape sheeting. We didn’t have enough, but we didn’t expect to. This was known and prepared for ahead of time, meaning I didn’t shout and swear a lot, and have to go back to Lowes today.

I cut the sheet to size, and didn’t cut myself, therefore not leading to much humorous cursing and bleeding.

I laid out the sheeting and did not drop the rocks I was holding it place with on my toe, meaning I didn’t end up hopping around the front yard, screaming hilariously.

Then the wind didn’t blow it away, which didn’t lead to a hilarious chase across the property, followed by me not tripping and landing on a porcupine or in some animal poodoo.

Then Sunny backed the truck up and didn’t roll over my toe, which didn’t lead me to invent numerous new swear words, while trying frantically to work out the international sign for ‘The Truck is On My Toe‘ through the truck window..

We then shoveled the mulch onto the sheet. It didn’t cause a mulch-avalanche, and did not bury me up to my ears. A Spider did not crawl out of the mulch onto my face, meaning I didn’t squeal like a 3 year old girl.

I also didn’t trip and fall over, didn’t end up with a mouthful of old tree bark, and didn’t have a Biff Tannen “I hate manure!” moment.

Then we took the rake to even out the mulch. I didn’t step on the rake, leading to me not getting a big humorous bruise on my face and a week long speech impediment. The mulch evened out easily, and I didn’t end up with bare patches, an I didn’t tear the sheet underneath, meaning I didn‘t swear a lot, and didn’t have to put all the mulch back on the truck while I didn‘t replace the sheet.

On my way into the house, I didn’t trip, bang my head, and have the cat run up and pee on me.

Yes, it was just that freaky. It went swimmingly. Literally like clockwork. Everything that was supposed to happen happened, and everything that could go wrong…didn’t. It’s like heroically jumping on a grenade, and it failing to explode.

As far as I can see, there are only four possible explanations for what happened today:

a) The world is indeed broken, and the laws of Paulius DIY-Physics no longer apply.
b) Karma is taking a break, and is waiting to drop something REALLY shitty on me.
c) I accidentally found my way into an alternate universe, the one where things actually go right for me.
d) Mulch is my own personal Kryptonite, which robs me of my screw up powers.

I did a DIY job, and everything worked out well.

You have NO FRIGGING IDEA how freaked out I am right now.

If anyone needs me, I’ll be hiding under the bed, rocking slowly backwards and forwards, while muttering the word ‘mulch’ to myself over and over…waiting for the other shoe to drop.

(PS, Mark this date in your calendar. This is the last Blog post, for the foreseeable future, that will be posted through a 26k dial-up connection.)