The plan — if stopping at the B&M across town and picking up two wall mounted shelves and a spirit level with no inkling of what to do with either counts as one — was to spend the evening measuring, marking, drilling and putting up two shelves. The objective was to provide storage for books, a journal and my phone in a location accessible from my bed. I was certain it would be an absolute doodle, given my decent score in woodwork in my secondary school days, and my machine shop expertise during my undergrad.
It took only a few minutes before it became apparent that I had both underestimated the level of skill required and overestimated my previous knowledge. By then I had already mucked up the first location I had identified, with only my refusal to admit defeat driving me on.
I just about got there with a functional product in the end, poorly aligned edges and simmering frustration notwithstanding. For what it is worth, I suspect my time would have been better used paying someone else to do it whilst I focused my energies elsewhere.