Only Thing That Works is Me

As I cruised into my garage after dropping off minimum payments on the latest repair bills in town because I was out of postage stamps and calendar spaces, the car collapsed into nine pieces.  Nice.  Now Hunneypunkin gets to use his superpowers to magic the car back together, and I get to decide which kidney to sell to cover the cost.
On my way to the front door I noticed a steady drip of water on the sidewalk.  From under the eaves.  Indicating a leak in the roof.  Well, I can't fix that, but I can print out the papers for my class tonight.
After forty-five minutes of diplomatic negotiations between the printer and my laptop I had the two speaking to each other and at that point my laptop overheated and went comatose.
While the laptop cooled down I washed the dishes.  In dishpans, which I emptied outside because the drain...did not.  I also laundered a load of darks and hauled buckets of washer water outside because the drain, of course, did not.
It seemed wise to cease water related activites in order to maintain my carefully protected facade of sanity, so I mixed up a sugary batch of New Year's Irresolutions.  Unfortunately the oven believed itself to be overheating and kept turning itself off, while the leprechaun in the fridge woke up and proceeded to mock me with repetitious knocking.  Once the oven was convinced it was safe to operate at 350° for thirty minutes, I tried to run the vacuum cleaner over the living room carpet, but it blew the breaker.
It seemed wise to temporarily leave the house in order to maintain my faltering facade of sanity, so I stepped into my waterproof boots and headfirst into the back door because I keep forgetting that in colder weather the doorknob sticks.  Once outside, I sloshed through the slush and tossed a bowlful of stale leftovers to the dogs, then turned back toward the house with my socks drenched.
Is it too much to ask that the things I own work as hard as I do?
Hunneypunkin's little sledgehammer smiled up at me from the welcome mat where it wasn't supposed to be.  This is the Jeremy Renner of Hunneypunkin's expansive arsenal of tools.  It's tough, cool, hardworking, versatile, and fun to look at.  It took every molecule of self restraint I barely had to refrain from picking it up and using it on everything I own.