Moving furniture

So yesterday, in a heroic effort of last-minute Christmas-shopping procrastination, I decided to rearrange my bedroom. I've been thinking about doing this for years, but it's quite a feat for single me to move my heavy stuff. I guess maybe I thought I'd have a boyfriend to help out by now. HA. Plus i'm just plain lazy. I had to start by picking up all the crap off the floor. This took about an hour. The offending objects included a broken VCR, an empty bag of cough drops, and a couple of dishes, just to give you an idea of the carnage. At least one whole cat had disintegrated under my bed, judging from the size of the fur ball I pulled out. So that was step 1.

Step 2 was to get the little furniture out. Well even my little furniture is heavy -- my bedside table contains every book i've ever read as well as my awe-inspiring lotion collection and other odds and ends. And to pause to remove the drawers? So passe. By now, the steps all blurred together. Once the small stuff was out, I started trying to maneuver my dresser. This proved impossible. Even using my entire body weight, with my legs pushing from the wall, it didn't even budge. I did have to remove some drawers from this in order to move it. I won't bore you with all the details, but let's just say it took a couple of hours (including time for me to lie on the floor and pant) to get the big furniture shifted almost into position.

I say "almost" because I had a brilliant idea towards the end of the big shuffle. I'd always wanted a reading chair in my bedroom -- why didn't I take this opportunity to move my big puffy chair, the one taking up a huge space in the living room, why didn't I move that into my bedroom? Just throw it in there with all the other furniture? Perhaps by a window? The next hour was me taking off all the cushions and then shoving it, on one arm, across the living room, kitchen, and eventually into the bedroom doorway. Where it became stuck. With me in between the doorway and the chair. For several death-defying and worrisome moments. Eventually I worked my way out, and this was one of the few times i've been grateful that I'm squishy. So once I was removed from the mix, it only took another 20 minutes or so of shoving, cussing, and marking up the wall, before I got the chair into my room. And realized it wouldn't fit where I wanted it to go. Did I measure, you ask?? Hell no -- measuring is for amateurs.

I eventually found a space for it, and while l'm still not sure I like it there, i'm sure as hell not ready to move it back OUT of the room anytime soon. By now it was dark. I had successfully avoided going to the mall for one more day. Last night, as I cozied up in my bed in its new position by a window, as I stroked the cats that flanked me on both sides, I thought to myself, I'm a Strong, Independent Woman, and Life is Good.

And damn, I'm going to hurt tomorrow.