Our studio remodeling project is nearly complete and Sunday was trash day. Our contractor brought a long trailer and helped us load up everything in the room that we didn't want to keep: a huge C-shaped desk, two file cabinets, my sister's old "woodgrain" dorm fridge, a hideous office chair from the 50s, broken computers, outdated peripherals, orphaned power cords, tons of 3.5" floppies (I didn't even bother to look through and see what they were), obsolete software and manuals, etc., etc., etc.
The desk pieces were ridiculously heavy, as were most of the giant sacks of trash.
By mid-afternoon, I was so tired that I could barely move. I managed to rouse myself to prepare a truly inferior batch of penne pasta with roasted red pepper sauce, which gave me the energy to make a trip to OfficeMax. When I returned home with hanging file frames for the file drawers my husband had given me (we traded file cabinets), I put one together, filled it with files and then found myself sitting on the floor for fifteen minutes just zoning out.
Now that the most prominent junk is gone, we still have at least eight tubs of stuff that we'll need to go through, piece by piece, and either put away, file or trash.
Tonight I'll probably set up my computer and printer in my new office and finish nesting. I don't know if I'll go through both of my giant Rubbermaid tubs o' stuff, but maybe I'll take a stab at one. Or maybe not. Just thinking about it makes me want to lie down.