Heavy-lifting, Part II

Yes, yes, of course the desk got moved. I said it was gonna, didn't I? But, um, it wasn't exactly me who was channeling any super powers. I swear, dear readers, not an hour after posting the last blog post, my wrist was seering with radiating pain through my fingers and up to my elbow. A freak attack of carpal tunnels syndrome.
But fear not, for my more-than-super girlfriend saved the day, with feats of human stregnth I have seldom witnessed. I ended up getting my neighbor's boyfriend to help, and by golly, they moved that damn thing, which I would estimate at about 800 gagillion pounds.
Oh, and oh, if I haven't already mentioned, dear readers, why do you ask did I need to move such a hulking piece of furniture? Well, because my party of three has become a party of five -- as my lovely girlfriend and her sweetie daughter are moving in with me and my girls. Yes, yes, that's a whole lot of estrogen under one roof, but we're determined to make it work. So, stay tuned for more estrogen-overload related tell-alls (and remind me to tell you about this weekend's "diary incident," where I learned that my oldest daughter CAN indeed spell quite a few curse words. Ahem.) and blended family war-stories. Oh, and of course, lots more gushing about how head-over-heels in love I am.