Dumbbroaditis
"Personification" is a tool I learned somewhere in my psychotherapy path which I am gaining confidence with, despite the fact that I canae remember its source. I believe it comes from the alphabet soup my damaged memory has made out of the professionals I have worked with along that path, but I can only believe. Proof currently unavailable within this morning's interest. "The Dumb Broad" is the personification of my engineering and science psychosis. I was building things and conducting experiments before I began talking in early adolesence. My engineering and science psychosis might even be older and deeper than the sexual trauma psychosis. Maybe. Can the two be fairly compared?
Been hanging a magnetic knife holder into the cinderblock wall over the stove side this morning. Big surprise that the screws which came with the holder didn't handle the cinderblock well, huh? Is it an even bigger surprise that The Dumb Broad started exerting her confusion during the weeks (months?) I debated whether or not to buy the holder? As I write, I find myself wondering whether the traditional lady stores, such as the one where I bought the holder are an especially potent trigger for the Dumbbroaditis. Maybe? Chewing. . .
For now, I am celebrating the progress in recognizing and peacefully dealing with those rounds of psychosis that have herstorically crippled me in my tinkering compulsions. I believe the personification of that complex psychic mosaic has helped. Maybe? Chewing. . .
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I can't picture a knife holder that needs to be hang but screws being destroyed by wood or brick is very frustrating. that is where I start looking for glues of some sort, gorilla glue now make a clear glue that I want to try next time.
the lady store has sold me a few things that have turned out to be trash shortly after buying. dumbbroaditis can be a pain to work through but it can be easier to get rid of then the men that sets it off. good luck getting them out of the picture.
The knife holder is a big, long magnet which hangs on the wall and grips the knife blade with it's magnetic force. The cinderblock is covered with wood paneling. Found screws short enough to grip the paneling more than the block. So far, so good. Mission completion.
Trashy purchases are available wherever things are being sold. A big part of my dumbbroaditis is that classic battle of the sexes. Can good engineers be Mothers? Can wives be good engineers? Etcetera, etceteri. The traditionally gender specific stores confuse me mightily, whatever the gender orientation. Which me should I be for this crowd?
In the yaddahs of my personal blahs, I believe it is that classic battle of the sexes which triggers the dumbbroaditis inside my strictly personal psychosis. Women and men are quite equal in this specific, strictly personal battleground.
Got no real words beyond supportive vibes. Not one I've faced. My mom was very clear that she was a wife, mom and nurse, and she couldn't be super at all three, so she'd do her best at mom-and-nurse, and wife was gonna have to be "mediocre-okay". So... I kinda had that example. (Note: MOm was born 1940s.) this is muddles, I apologize, pain is bad bad today. My point is that... I tend to react as Mom taught me, which was "Yeah, I'm female, okay, so where the hell's the replacement lawn mower blades?" sorta thing. And I never doubted thing like women/wives/mothers could be good at compilcated stuff, b/c Mom raised me on stories of Marie Curie (2 Nobel Prizes, one with spouse, one without, both in science).
Personally, I hate having to do some furring whenever I encounter situations like yours, so I can see why you went with the paneling. And if there's any connectors for concrete or cinder block that don't end up making me gnash my teeth, I've yet to meet them. Kudos to the Arfster!
The local Honda dealership used to give free inspections for the life of the car...so they'd fail it over anything.
Knowing a bit about state inspections, if I fix the problem and bring it back within 24 hours, they don't have to do the full inspection over again...just fix the issue.
Anyway, the failed it for brakes the one year. So I went home, replaced the brakes and brought it back the next morning. The guy there said, "We have to make sure that your husband did it correctly.",
I replied, "I changed them, it's not much harder than changing the tires on this car. Hardest part is buying new pads with this infant and toddler in tow. I'd be stupid not to test the brakes to make sure that they were working before getting on the highway, but I have no problem if you want to do the full inspection again." (complete with complimentary car wash.... ;p)