Note: In getting re-acquainted with my blog, I’ve been sorting through all my half-finished drafts that I never got around to posting (there are a ton). This one is from back in July when I got my new bed. Warning: I am inordinately pleased with myself in this one.

So… I recently paid movers to move my amazing bed from Atlanta to 2601. This was a Life Milestone for a few reasons:

  • I called and negotiated with movers and actually got a price that impressed my father. Because I am THAT awesome and adult, people.
  • I paid for half of the moving cost. Which still threw my entire life as I know it off-kilter, budget wise… but the point remains that I was able to throw some money down for Unexpected Grownup Expenses and I think I’m still going to be able to buy food. Successssss.
  • For the first time in six years…. SIX YEARS… I have a bed that’s not twin-sized. Ahhhhh…. luxury.

So all that’s great. Hunky dory, even. Only when I dove into my bed for the first time I was surprised when my weight slid my mattress four inches forward. It turns out real beds (not piddly little twin beds) have supporting beam things that span across the bed frame. And when I lowered my head down under the bed to see what the hay was going on, I saw that the little metal feet looked like this:

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Instead of this:

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See the difference? Are my mad clever keyboard drawing skills awesome, or what?

Turn out the movers, lazy sonofaguns, plopped those beam things in place but didn’t actually bother to secure them to the frame. Me being a single lady and such, I wondered how exactly I was supposed to move everything, find the right screws, and bolt everything into place. But I decided I was going to try.

It started out easily enough. I simply scooted my mattress off the bed. Then I was faced with the box spring. I won’t waste words: HEAVY. Really heavy. Leaning into it-feet sliding ineffectually against the carpet-nothing is budging-heavy. But somehow I managed. I think I wedged a shoulder here and grunted there, and magically I wasn’t flattened like a pancake. Then I looked at the bed frame with some calculating, understanding nods; I decided what size screws I needed and then I went out and bought them. Correctly sized screws in hand,  I borrowed Helga’s father’s power tool… and dang it if I didn’t fix that bed! Granted I think I stripped one of the screws, and another kind of went in at a funny angle… but y’all! I DID IT. I fixed heavy furniture with power tools and hardware and my own brute she-strength.

Basically, I am unstoppable, so show me what you need fixed next. Fence? Wall? Foundation? I’m your gal.