I’m having a bad, bad day…

I have good days and bad days.

Maybe a better way to say it is that some days I’m off my game. It used to frustrate me and make me angry, but then I found the signs of impending doom, and head them off at the pass. I learned this finishing drywall, of all things. I found that with the first few swipes of mud, that if I was consistently screwing up, I was off my game and ought to pack things in. Previously, I’d be focused on completing the task, no matter how badly done. But that would always result in more work later.

Make a mess finishing drywall? You’ll be sanding forever. Put it away, do it right later. Then there’s less work as things move more smoothly. So now, 1 – 2 screw-ups, and that’s it. Cleanup, drink beer until the bad karma has passed.

Saturday was just such a morning. It startup up again. I had to find the funny noise in my wife’s car and figured that I’d repair the connector for the AC while I was at it. Got the car up on the ramps, and then it started. One manifestation of this syndrome is inability to find the tools I want to use (even though I used them only days before) and losing them in the middle of the project.

Can’t tell how many times I’ve grumbled “FFS! I just had the m-‘fer in my hand!”

And so it began. I had all the tools I needed, so I thought, and had the dogs laying around as disinterested observers. They like being part of the team, and are content to lay there watching me cuss. I had trouble getting the connector off and needed my long standard screwdriver, a screwdriver that apparently grew legs and ran off.

This started my muttering…dammit, I just had it…

Crunch crunch crunch…

Huh, dog has a stick. At least he’s happy. Dammit, not in the box, or on the bench.

Crunch crunch..

I grabbed another one. Screwit. This’ll have to do. Turn around and “FAAAAAAACK NOOOOOO JET!”

The big dude ate my connector. And I had to chase him to get it back. He’s a big dude, he had to work at it to grab that thing from under the car.

I’m thinking it won’t fit now.

Gone. Luckily it was only $7. CRAP!

The Culprit. He moved back to sticks after I seized his connector.

Oh well. Looked like one of the many plastic panels cars use these days for inner fenders slipped and was rubbing on the driveshaft. Luckily, I had the part leftover from when I replaced the front skid guard. I’ll just install it. Hell, I even have more of those cheap ass plastic rivets.

Now where is it?

CRAP – here we go again. The damn part has been in my way for months and the nanosecond I need it, It’s grown legs too. Must have taken the screwdriver with it. 15 minutes of muttering and cussing, I found it and struggled to install it. There. Now the day wasn’t a total waste.

But it was too early to drink, and I quit besides. And I promised my daughter I’d help them fix their door. Luckily, I knew I was in doofus mode, so I went slow and careful. We did the task, only needing one trip to Home Depot, instead of the four, which is typical.

One of the benefits of age, I suppose. Work smarter not harder. And when it’s smart to stop. Stop.