A comedy of errors

So where do I begin?

1.) Anna was a no-show. Can't fault her for that though, since she forgot where I live, which is only fair, since I keep on forgetting her apartment number. Anna kept on calling, but by that time Bell had disconnected our phone. Isadora couldn't make it.

2.) Ikea and Rogers made it on Saturday morning -- at 9 am. And of course there was no one there, since everyone was busy moving. Mom and her brother got a UHAUL van which was woefully too small, making us rely jointly on Clint's Explorer and Chuck's Windstar. So they left, and aren't going to come back until Monday.

3.) A certain friend of mom's husband (who I shall refer to as "Nancy") came to pick up our bedroom dresser set -- I didn't know what to do when he showed up, so I decided to start bringing that out too. And right then mom showed up completely hysterical and melodramatic, yelling at us (well, me), asking what on earth we were doing. We left Nancy's husband to finish up, and as soon as he was done he left, with nothing so much as a thank-you or an offer to help.

4.) I still have to sleep on the fucking floor. Again.

5.) I have had practically zero time to properly study for my Botany test tomorrow.

6.) And of course, The Relative insists on exerting Her influence, taking over my life, sucking away what little control I've had on my life. I'm little more than a pawn now. For now anyway, until I free myself from this prison.

7.) I fucked up while trying to assemble my desk; I now have drill holes on my tabletop, and drill holes in the floor. I now have to try to figure out some way that I can cover up my mistake; it's going to look a little kludgy, which is far from what I originally had in mind for my table. At least mom isn't going to go "OMFG!!!oneone1" on me, which is what she normally does.

8.) Mom refuses to let me assemble my own furniture. Just like how she thought I was too stupid to disconnect and dismantle my own computer setup, or too stupid to know what's wrong with our stero system, which dad and I had spent years trying to fix.

The only solution I have is to #8; out of spite I plan on dismantling my furniture pieces and reassembling them myself, if I can't *gently* persuade my own mother tomorrow morning than I am neither too stupid or too weak to know how to take care of myself -- which time and time again she seems to delude herself into thinking. I've got some ideas as to how I can fix my table, but like I said it's going to look a little less...shall we say, elegant than I originally thought.