Alright, let me tell you about this whole "14th legion" endeavor I got myself into. Sounds grand, doesn't it? Well, it wasn't exactly storming the gates of Rome, more like wrestling with a beast in my own workshop. It was this massive, ridiculously detailed model kit I decided to tackle. A historical thing, loads of tiny pieces, you know the type.
Getting Started - The Grand Plan
So, I cleared my workbench, got all excited. I laid out all the sprues, an ocean of grey plastic. I thought, "Yeah, this will be a nice, calming project. A bit of focus, something to show for it at the end." I even bought some new fancy cutters and those tiny files, thinking I was all professional. The plan was simple: follow the instructions, piece by piece, and in a few weeks, bam, a masterpiece.
The Grind - Where It All Went Sideways
Famous last words, right? The instructions looked like they were translated from Martian by a committee that hated each other. Some steps were just pictures, no words, leaving you to guess. And the pieces! So many tiny, fragile bits. I swear, half of them were designed to snap if you even looked at them too hard.
Here's a taste of the pain:
- Spent an hour looking for one microscopic part, only to find it had pinged off into another dimension.
- Glued my fingers together more times than I glued actual model parts. Super glue, man, that stuff has a personal vendetta against me.
- Tried to paint some of the sub-assemblies. The paint either went on too thick, like goop, or too thin, showing all the plastic. And the colors never matched the box art, never.
It was like that one time I tried to assemble some flat-pack furniture. You know, the instructions make it look like a five-minute job, but three hours later you're surrounded by bits, sweating, and considering just burning the whole lot. This "14th legion" felt just like that, but with more tiny, pointy parts waiting to stab you or get lost in the carpet.
The Reality Check
I realized pretty quickly this wasn't going to be the zen experience I'd hoped for. It was a war of attrition. Every little piece attached felt like a small victory, but then you'd see the mountain of plastic still waiting. There were days I'd just stare at it, then walk away and do something, anything, else. The motivation just wasn't there sometimes.
It's funny, you start these things with such high hopes, thinking you'll be disciplined, methodical. But then life, or in this case, badly designed plastic and vague instructions, just throws a wrench in the works. You end up improvising, making mistakes, and sometimes just wanting to hurl the whole thing against the wall.
Where It Stands Now
So, where's the glorious 14th legion now? Well, it's sitting on my shelf, about half-assembled. Mocking me, probably. I haven't touched it in a couple of weeks. Every now and then, I glance over at it, think "maybe today," and then usually find something more pressing to do, like watching paint dry. Literally.
I tell myself I'll get back to it. I will. It's not defeated me yet. But man, it’s a slog. It’s not the quick win I thought it would be. It’s more of a long, drawn-out campaign, and right now, we're in a bit of a stalemate. Maybe I'll pick it up next weekend. Or the weekend after that. We'll see if the legion ever gets fully mustered.
