A girl does not discover her true strength until there are no men around to help get her new vintage dresser out of her SUV, through the parking lot, up two flights of steep stairs to the second floor apartment of an old Victorian house, and up two more flights of steeper stairs to her attic bedroom.
Ok... so my fabulous roomie helped me with the two flights of stairs between the front door and the entrance to the attic. But I did the rest. Drenched in sweat. Knowing that with one slip of the finger, I'd either be crushed by my dresser falling on me... or be crushed by sight of it tumbling down the stairs.
I'm so proud of myself. And so impressed by my own strength and motivation. This whole heroic effort and triumph has really got me thinking though. If I can accomplish feats like this on my own... who needs men?!
Oh! About that dresser, you wonder? I used to have one just like it (and like the rest of my vintage French provincial furniture), but I sold it when I ran out of space. Now I have all of this space and needed a dresser to keep my clothes at bay. I scored this cutie on Craigslist and dragged my friend to the good old DSM on an adventure to pick it up. I'll post better pictures of it (with its drawers!) soonly. :)