- All of my grown children have moved out, so I'm only moving my stuff (and a teeny bit of their leftovers).
- I started the purging process two years ago and realized during the epic Merrimack Valley Gas Crisis when the work crews invaded my home that I don't have much more crap to toss out.
- After my last kiddo vacated the premises in the spring, I did a huge reorganization (and more purging) of the bedrooms, so a lot of my minutiae is actually in decent order.
- I don't need that much from my kitchen to survive the next seven or so weeks, so I start packing fragile stuff (which takes forever) first. (Isn't this why paper plates were invented?)
- I keep out a set or two of sheets and a few blankets, but all the rest can be packed up in boxes.
- I'm moving close by and have given myself six days for the entire move, so the pressure is low.
- I hired movers to do the heavy lifting.
That last point is key. I don't mind moving, but I'm too old and far, far too beautiful for moving myself. Oh, sure, it's going to be much easier to move small bureau drawers than it is to pack my clothes and then unpack them again just to put all my clothes right back into the drawers. I'll move the drawers and the movers can lift the draw-less (and now considerably lighter) dressers. I'll do the same with nightstands and desk drawers.
It's easier for me.
Carrying things like the sleeper-loveseat that weighs more than a small island? Yeah ... no. Making my friends and relatives carry futons and boxes and a kitchen table? Forget that! My friends can carry the coolers (if they so desire to be present at all), the full coolers, and help themselves as they go.
I do have a couple of big, heavy pieces of furniture that need to be tossed: under-bed storage pedestals that used to be in my boys' room. These two laminated particle-board drawer units weigh about three tons each. Okay, not that much, but I've moved them several times all by myself across carpets, and they are about as easy to move as dead bodies.
So, today is the day those pedestal storage units must be dismantled. My intention is to take them apart carefully, attach all the hardware (safely stored in baggies) to each main piece by using duct tape with signs that say "FREE TWIN BED STORAGE PEDESTALS" in case anyone really wants or needs them. That is my intent. Originally.
I am ridiculously gentle with the first pedestal, turning it onto its side, getting a good look at the screws and the under-assembly. I start to loosen one screw and, remarkably, it's not too difficult. Hopeful and full of care, I go for the next screw and bracket.
Nothing.
I grab some gloves to add torque and really give it a whirl. Still, nothing. I don't really want to put WD-40 all over the frame because that will make a huge mess. So, I get out the drill. I probably should've done this at the beginning. I can simply reverse the drill bit that has the screwdriver attachment. Everything is charged and ready to go, so this ought to be a breeze, right?
Nope.
The damn screw won't budge. I try a different screw but encounter the same result. I head back to the hand-held screwdriver again. Maybe I'm stupid and I'm doing something wrong. I mean, the drill can only go forward or backward; how hard can this possibly be?
Nope, nothing, and never. This is my screw-removal track record after screw number one.
Thirty minutes later I decide that there is no way, no how that I am going to salvage these bed pedestals, and quite frankly I don't give a flying shit anymore because the damn things are twenty-frigging-years old, and who wants them anyway, and tough shit if the trash people think it's construction trash and leave it all behind because I am done, done, DONE screwing around with these screwy screws and screw this and screw my life.
Out comes the hammer.
Now, I am not super strong, but I have lifted weights, done some cardio-kickboxing, and practiced judo for about five years. I know the science of applying strength when and where need be by using whatever geometric laws and laws of physics are immediately available. But, I'll admit that even I am surprised by the ferocity and ease at which I dismantle the two bed pedestals using a hammer and the brute force of my frustration. Including the thirty minutes of struggle with bed pedestal number one, I have both pedestals completely apart and in pieces within an hour. I have all the sharp hardware removed or hammered down shortly thereafter. The longest process turns out to be duct-taping anything dangerous or pointed that might freak out the trash collectors.
I drag all of the parts, including the big wooden intact pieces, down the stairs and right out the front door. I sort the contents of the six drawers into plastic bins and then line the empty drawers right up with the other destroyed wood and hardware that used to house them.
The only fall-out from the whole process is the fact that particle board breaks down into, well, particles, so I have large chunks, smaller smatterings, and a lot of particle board shavings all over the room when I'm done. Thank God for vacuums, though, because minutes later, with the exception of the pedestal base imprints on the carpet, there is no indication whatsoever that mayhem has happened on the premises. Moving the bed frames may be as heavy and awkward as moving dead bodies, but, like the wicked person I am, no trace has been left behind. Let that be a lesson to my enemies. Yeah, I think I'll put that hammer away now.
