Have you ever noticed something that doesn’t align? I mean noticed something that doesn’t align every time you open your eyes. Every. Time. Sprinkler heads, HVAC vents, light fixtures, outlets, light switches. They are all placed as if by accident. Or on purpose and someone is trying to kill me by making my head explode.

Seriously, things that are not aligned, pull yourselves together. You’re embarrassing yourselves.

This HVAC vent is 2 inches off center from the window. You know why? Because it is the embodiment of evil, or there was a ceiling joist in the way. Same thing.

This light fixture could be centered on the window, or it could be centered on the dining table. Instead, it does neither. It rests awkwardly “off-center” as if thrown on the ceiling during a drunken rage. It is a disgrace.

The sprinkler head isn’t even trying.

The light switch cover is 3 degrees out of plumb. Why? Because we can’t have nice things. It’s also “ivory” so kill me now.

The top of that mortar joint is supposed to align with the top edge of the trim board. Does it? It does not. Instead, it resides 2″ above the top edge of the trim board giving the impression of reckless abandon. Disarray. Chaos. I pointed this out to the contractor. He looked at me like I wasn’t wearing any clothes. I was. They were black. I slowly banged my head against the trim hoping it would move upwards or render me unconscious.

The top edge of the window was supposed to align with that mortar joint too. Does it? It does not. Instead, there is 2 inches of beige caulk on top of the window frame. Beige. caulk. I have no words.

The top of the doors aligns with the window heads. In theory. In reality, they do not since the doors were changed to 6′-8″ doors instead of 7′-0″ doors to save some money. Now I stand in the middle of the room shifting my gaze 4″ as a look from the door to the window. I might as well open the window and jump out but, I can’t open the window. It’s missing the crank. The locking latch is beige, so I don’t have much hope. I just stare out the window blankly.

The joints in the concrete floor were supposed to align with… nevermind. It’s not important. One of the joints was cut freehand by the contractor. It wavers across the room as does my confidence and my will to live.

I specifically designed a thing that was to be aligned with another thing. You did not align the thing. I hate you now.

At least, in my mind, the things align.

They do not.