In which I take poor construction personally

So a few weeks ago at work I made an internet impulse purchase of two hanging "hammock chairs."  They look like this:

It took weeks to get around to hanging them on the back porch.  I tried right away, of course, but couldn't get enough torque on the hook while holding it over my head to get it to bite into the wood while I turned to get it started. I drilled a starter hole and everything, still couldn't do it. Finally, this Sunday, John was over and he got the hooks installed for me and so at last my wonderful hammock chairs are up.  I'm elated. I feel like I've somehow arrived.  I can sit in my gently swaying hammock chair, cupped in comfy fabric like a little nest, with my feet up, sipping cold wine, watching the birds and enjoying life.

This, I thought, was living.

I wanted to post a picture of me doing just that here, but unfortunately, last night as I was sitting in my swing with my wine, the hook snapped out of the roof beam overhead and dropped me on my butt on the patio. The ice-cold wine in my glass was as surprised as I was, as it was temporarily left behind, up in the air as I and my glass dropped away beneath it.  Then it came down too:  on my head.  All very quickly, of course.

I felt as if the universe had personally taken a crap on me.  My feelings were deeply wounded.  I had loved this chair, lovingly installed it and praised it, spent time with it. Only to be betrayed so brutally and coldly dropped on my ass on the hard concrete.

It will be awhile before my spirit recovers from this rejection. Meanwhile, I guess I will have to call my dad and find out what I did wrong.