Being a woman who lives alone, certain problems can crop up. In the mad excitement of getting your own place, moving in, putting your own stamp on your home, it never crosses your mind that the tap may need fixing, the toilet seat may need replacing, certain pieces of furniture need building.
Now I am not the sort of woman who will play the damsel in distress and flutter her eyelashes when a shelving unit needs assembling. I find it very difficult to ask for help, especially from a man. I blanche when I hear the words "It's a mans job", as I feel that I am just as capable, if I put my mind to it, of assembling said shelving unit as any man that happens to be in my life.
I am not here to start a Woman verses Man debate, and yes I know men have more physical stregnth than women. But when it comes to my own place, I feel a sense of pride that I assembled most of the things within it myself.
Yes I won't deny I have made some mistakes (eg my tv cabinet, a couple of the wood mdf parts are the wrong way round) but surely that is how you learn. Since my tv cabinet, I have assembled my futon, my bed and my CD rack (that strangely was the most difficult thing!) I fitted my new toilet seat myself, and also managed to fix a cupboard door. Those who may want to scoff at my efforts are very welcome to come round and view my handywork for themselves. My bed is sturdy, my futon is also, and my toilet seat is relatively secure.
I have a DIY book that was written by a woman, for women, which I use on a regular basis. I also keep some tools in the cupboard. On my 'To Purchase' list is a drill, and I also have dreams of borrowing a chainsaw and attacking the bush that is outside my flat. I am not scared to climb a ladder, and I don't get anal about a bit of muck clearing.
Obviously if some 'big jobs' such as fitting a new bathroom suite were to crop up, then yes I would have to get the professionals in. There is a strong likelyhood that the said professionals will be men. Even in this day and age, most plumbers, electricians and builders are men, and most childcare workers are women. But there are a few that break the mould, such as our new (male) recruit at my workplace. Who knows, if I carry on the way I am I may end up at a building site, wolf whistling at any male that happens to walk past, looking mighty fetching in my overalls.
In a few years time Workmen may be obsolete and Workwomen may be the way forward! Nurseries may be ran by fellas singing Nursery Rhymes whilst harping on about the joys of potty training. The role reversal may catch on! But until then I will continue to use my screwdriver and hammer in my spare time, whilst I harp on about the joys of potty training in my work time.
Thankyou for reading, I plan to be back very soon, oh and if you have a chainsaw about you, please let me know. Though if I do get my paws on one it may take a little longer for me to write my next post, as I will be too busy attacking the bush outside!