I hate my desk. I really do. I spent half an hour on the phone yesterday only to realize that EVERYONE hates a bizarrely heavy old office desk that likes to draw blood. Isn’t that weird? Finally, I called the Salvation Army.
“Do you take office desks?”
“Would you like to schedule a pick-up?”
“Well, yes, but I need to know if you take office desks.”
“What’s your zip code?”
“94609. So you’ll take it?”
“We can do a pick-up for you tomorrow in your area.”
“Will you take my desk?”
“What’s your name?”
I was either talking to a machine or someone who’s been sued in the past over an office desk. I gave up and the pick-up is supposed to happen between two and five today. Better be before 430 is all I gotta say—I have to go to work early tonight. I’m at the point now where if they don’t come today, or refuse it when they get here, I’m going to PAY someone to remove it. (Oh, I just remembered. My favorite Lala suggested that we bust it up into small pieces while it’s still in my room. How satisfying that would be. Oh, the crunch and splinter….)
I am not so smart. Didja know that? Last night I decided to help the picker uppers by moving the desk into the living room. I knew it was crazy, but I have confidence in myself. I heaved and ho-ed (hey!) until I got it turned enough to move a little, then I used almost all my strength to put pieces of cardboard under each foot. If I braced against things, the wall, or the heater, I could push hard enough to move it an inch at a time. I knew we had managed to get it IN the damn room, I figured that meant I could get it could get out.
My mind is a leetle slow when it comes to geometry. Some might actually call it a form of stupidity. It won’t hurt my feelings if you do. This is what I ended up with.
I had to do the Dukes of Hazzard slide over the top of it every time I wrangled another inch of movement. I got it to here and finally thought, “There’s no way in bloody hell this is EVER going to go through here. How did we DO that last time?”
And then (sadly, only then) I realized that we had made it stand up (UP!) and waltzed it through the doorways. Took three of us. I wasn’t going to be able to do it.
It took approximately thirteen thousand more Duke slides to get it back far enough into the room that I could squeak around it on all sides. Those guys from the thrift store better be great in number and full of steroids. Bandages in the truck wouldn’t hurt, either.
Packing proceeds apace. The living room and bathroom are done. Hoping to polish off the living room today, and the kitchen tomorrow. I haven’t heard anything about keys today, so I’m officially not expecting them now. Maybe tomorrow. Oh, I hope hope hope…. This is EXCITING! Whoop!
I vote for using an axe to break it into small pieces. Just think of the frustration you could reall work out and the joy when it’s all said and done.
Darling Rachael, we are all so excited right along with you! (Although without the sore backs.)
Knitters, like quilters, are very good at judging fairly small measurements; we can eyeball anything below 18″ without breaking a sweat. Bigger than that? Oh, forget it. A quilter columnist once wrote about custom ordering a dining room table big enough to seat her whole family. When her husband saw the order form, and saw the size she had ordered, he had to inform her that the table was LONGER THAN THE ROOM IT WAS TO GO IN. But — she pointed out — she can tell at a glance when a seam is two or three threads off of the quarter inch it should be.
I’m always amazed at the strength of the guys on the moving van. They’ll carry that desk out of your house one-handed, with — at most! — one tiny comment about “Wow, this is heavy!”
WE WANT PICTURES of the new space! Soon!
Love to you from Richmond!
Oh Rach, I’m getting so excited for pictures of your almost new house! If those Salvation Army dudes leave the desk with you, I’m with LaLa I’d ax it!
But, the REAL questions of the day are:
Have you packed the stash? And, how about the WIP’s?
Thats when you’re REALLY packing!
GOOD LUCK!
Well, I always look for the lazy-person solution… You could always just leave the desk in situ for the next tenants. Pretend you are doing them a favor instead of being lazy. Maybe they will even thank you for sparing them the trouble of getting their own desk.
Oh, what I would have paid to see the Dukes of Hazzard slides over the desk.
I was gonna make a comment about the “slides” but Em said it first, Hee!
I had a desk like that once, we called it the “aircraft carrier”. It was a hideous old thing! I think we ditched it on the curb when we moved.
That little poncho looks adorable. I just made a teensy one for my niece that looks almost identical to the one you knit.
Good luck with the packing! It’s a lot easier moving when you know that the place you are moving into is really “yours” and not a rental!
Okay, so where is the new place? I’m very curious!
I’ve been remiss in not congratulating you on your new home. Sorry. But I am really, really pleased, and excited, for you. The desk, not so much.