What I’ve figured out about cordless drills (and what I still haven’t)

I was in the garage, trying to hang a shelf. The radio was playing that one song with the whistling part—you know the one? My cat, Oliver, had sprawled across the instruction manual like it was his personal throne— I was wearing an old band t-shirt from a show I barely remember, and it was raining outside. Not a hard rain, just that annoying drizzle that makes everything feel damp.

I had the drill in my hand, a screwdriver bit in the other, and I was holding a shelf bracket against the wall. Then I dropped the screw. It rolled under the workbench and into a crack behind the baseboard. I said a word I won’t type here. Oliver didn’t even flinch.

That’s when it hit me—I’ve had this thing for months and I still don’t really know what I’m doing.

Why I even looked into this

So, a few months ago we moved to the suburbs. Big change. Suddenly I had walls that needed picture frames, a fence that needed fixing, and furniture from that Swedish store that comes in flat boxes. My neighbor used his drill like it was a magic wand. He’d hang a shelf in ten minutes while I was still trying to find the right screwdriver.

I mean, I figured I needed one too. I went online, read a bunch of stuff, ended up buying something that looked… normal? Y’know, typical drill shape. Gray and black. Nothing fancy.

But here’s the thing. I didn’t actually know what to look for. I just assumed all drills were basically the same. That was my first mistake, probably.

And honestly? I still wonder if I really needed a drill at all. For most of the stuff I do around here, a cheap manual screwdriver works just as well. But when you have to drive a dozen screws into drywall or plywood, your hand starts to cramp. That’s when the drill saves you.

What surprised me after a week

Does it work in small spaces?

Okay, so I expected the drill to be big and clunky. But the one I got is actually not too heavy. I mean, I can hold it with one hand while balancing on a step stool, and that’s saying something because I’m not exactly strong. What surprised me is how much the size matters. Some drills have a really long nose, and you can’t fit them between studs or inside cabinets. Mine is on the shorter side, which helped when I was putting a shelf inside a closet.

But then there’s the battery. I have two batteries because that’s what they gave me. One seems to last longer than the other, but I haven’t figured out why. Maybe it’s just my imagination. I honestly don’t know if that feature actually works or if I just got lucky swapping them at the right time.

The noise thing nobody mentions. It’s not silent. It’s not loud either, more of a whirring grrrr sound. But when you’re in a small room with the door closed, it echoes. My cat hates it. He runs under the couch as soon as I pick it up.

One trap you should avoid

Don’t buy a drill with too many features you’ll never use. I saw some that come with a laser guide, a light, a belt clip, all that stuff. Maybe that’s useful for pros, but for me? I just need it to spin a screw. I tried the light once, it was okay, but it shines right in your eyes if you’re looking at the screw head. Hmm.

And the clutch settings? I still haven’t figured those out. You know the ring behind the chuck with numbers? It’s supposed to let you set the torque so you don’t strip the screw. I just turn it to a random number and hope for the best. Half the time I strip the screw anyway. Too embarrassed to read the manual. Oliver still has it pinned under his paw.

If I were to give advice to myself back then: just get one with a simple forward/reverse switch and a variable speed trigger. That’s really all you need. The rest is noise.

The part that actually matters

What I’d tell my neighbor

So my neighbor came over last weekend to help me hang a curtain rod. He looked at my drill, nodded, and said “that’ll do.” Then he showed me how to hold it differently—not like a pistol, but more like cradling it with your other hand near the front. I had been holding it wrong the whole time. No wonder my wrist hurt.

The part that actually matters is comfort and control. If the drill feels awkward in your hand, you’ll hate using it. I know some people say you should get the one with the highest voltage or whatever, but I don’t think I’ve ever needed more power than what my drill gives. For my kind of stuff—screws into wood, maybe a small hole in drywall—anything works.

But here’s the embarrassing part. Last week I tried to drill into a stud and the bit just stopped. I pushed harder, nothing. I thought the drill was broken. Then I realized the battery was dead. I swapped it, still nothing. Then I noticed there’s a little switch for speed settings—I had it on the low speed for driving screws, but I needed high speed for drilling. Duh. I felt so stupid. I laughed it off, but inside I was like, really, Dana?

Who probably doesn’t need this

Look, if you live in an apartment and you only hang a frame once a year, you don’t need a cordless drill. Borrow one from a friend. Or use a hammer and a nail. Seriously. I know people who buy a drill because they think they’ll become DIY gods overnight. I was almost one of them.

But if you’re like me—moved to a place with walls that need shelves, a fence that sags, a bike that needs a new rack—then yes, it helps. Just don’t overthink it. Don’t watch YouTube reviews for hours. Don’t compare specs you don’t understand. Get a normal one and learn as you go.

Oh, and always have a backup manual screwdriver. Because when you drop that screw behind the baseboard, you’ll be glad you do.

I still don’t know how the clutch settings work. But I’ll figure it out eventually. Or I won’t. Either way, the shelf is up.