Ache everywhere from doing the lion's share of cleaning and organizing at record speed.
Still not even close to even unboxing the new computer yet.
Somehow, in spite of me being the small, frail, 'not supposed to lift things' part of the equation, I have hauled all the heavy crap around there has been to haul for several days now.
My aches are starting to collect pet names, and I think my tailbone is actively planning to murder me while I sleep. (I remember always sitting on the floor and working on stuff until about 10 years ago or so. My mother would always wince and I had no idea why. Now, I know. Getting older blooooooooooooows.)
Times I have almost died in a craft-supply-avalanche: +1.
The last few days have been a comedy of (t)errors.
Actual conversation that occurred:
Bri: "So how did things go at the Apple store? Were you able to get the stuff to hook up the old monitor?"
Me: <just starts laughing desperately and maniacally>
Bri: "...this is gonna be good."