Two Girls, One Sofa.

I am on a mission of “I can do it myself.” From time to time, even I must seek out help because there are some things I simply am unable to do all by myself. Like moving a sofa up a flight of stairs.

I moved into an apartment about a week ago. I had next to nothing and have been on a hunt for a beautiful red sofa. Well I found one for $500 and I simply do not have that kind of money with, you know, bills, rent, and more bills. I went to Good Will and saw an amazingly awesome couch that would be perfect for me! Simple, comfy and – get this – only $60! Yes, the price is what made it so awesome. I will not lie. I go back a day later and the couch is still there so I buy it. And then there is a super cute black chair with small gold swirls strategically in a pattern. Yes. I fell in love instantly. It was $50, but I didn’t care. It was so cute. So I bought it and then remembered… I live on the second floor of an apartment. I think of all my friends who would be willing to help me move. One comes to mind.

My lovely friend, who hates moving and can usually weasle her way out of any type of hard work. I figured she would be the BEST person to chose. Yes, she did try to wiggle her way out but HA, I won and she was roped into helping me move. I planned this carefully. I fed her, to give her strength and then bought her a book so she could rest her sore muscles and enjoy night time reading of how to plan a wedding for broke ass people, uh, people on a budget. The book was $2 and the burrito came from my parents house so she kinda did get the short end of the stick.

The little dude at Goodwill was nice enough to help us load the truck and then … two girls moving bulky furniture. It seemed like a great idea when I first thought of it, but I should know by now that my good ideas while hungover are horrible ideas!

Before moving anything, I decided to outsmart myself and cover my belly button with  band aids. Every time I move, my piercing gets in the way and it hurts when boxes are caught on it (shudder). Once it was secured, I was ready to go. Should have thought about my divers as well, but I figured, I wasn’t going to be balancing a couch on my chest.

After reversing many times, I am finally able to pull the truck backwards into the parking spot. Luckily no other cars were next to me because they would have had missing mirrors. I let down the tailgate and just stare at the furniture and thought, “How the F are we going to move this?” My friend, who is luckily quick on her feet when it comes to moving starts yanking the chair out and we each grab one side and go up the stairs. It was easy-peasy. Until we realized we were not able to get it in through the front door. I had a vision of tying sheets together and pulling the chair up through the balcony but luckily I did not have to voice my idea because we turned the chair sideways and kinda forced gently wiggled it through  the door jamb. Once in, we dropped the chair in the living room and went back for the sofa. Now, I don’t exactly know what happened between carrying the chair and then picking up the couch because half way up the stairs, I feel like I am going to fall and shove the couch up the stairs so I can get my balance. In the process I caught my skin diver on my chest and trapped her leg between the couch and the stairs. Then the giggles started. I don’t know what was so funny since I had a couch balancing on my chest, but I started cracking up to the point of tears. She is stuck and pushing the couch back towards me and I am holding on with my slippery, sweaty hand in a death grip on the railing while trying to dislodge my diver but … am still laughing hysterically.

She gets her leg out from under the couch and then we get stuck. Just stood there laughing, trying to think of a way to get the couch up the stairs and onto the front porch. We push it up so its standing on its side, still laughing away. I never realized how hard it is to move furniture with the giggles. We flip the couch onto its side and then my leg is stuck between the couch and the wall. Naturally, we laugh more. I finally give up and start dragging the sofa on its arm rest through the front door. We get the sofa inside, right in front of the door, make sure there is enough room to actually, you know, close the door and then collapse.

I have to say though, it was one of the best furniture moving experiences I have had. I am in such a happy place here that having a ball (even though we complained) while moving the sofa will give me fond memories. Even now when I look at the sofa I think of our giggle fit.

Now, the day after moving, my divers HURT and I have this awkward bruise running along the length of my left collar bone, onto my shoulder and down my arm. I have colorful bruises on my knees from balancing the couch and my whole body was sore. My friend, she isn’t that much better off.

Next time I chose to move furniture, like the kitchen table I would like to get, I will call her first thing. Although, I will promise her a tasty PBR for all her effort and not a burrito and book.


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