Taking Care of My Own Stuff

One of the things I learned from my father was that you take care of your own 'stuff'.  And by 'stuff' I mean your possessions, your thoughts (aka don't have some psychiatrist screwing around in your brain), your emotions (for crying out loud keep all of those to yourself it is dangerous to let those out!) and your situations.  The very very bottom of the barrel, just one tiny step above death, the last possible resort: to ask for help.
Most of the time this works out okay for me.  There aren't too many things I can't do with a glue gun and determination.

Moving a chair upstairs is not one of them as I found out recently.
First you need to understand my relationship with this chair.  I need to have a chair in my bedroom.  I don't like to read in bed or watch TV in bed.  Sometimes I cant sleep laying down because of the pain in my shoulders.  Even though I have had small bedrooms I have always had a chair in there too.  When we moved into this new apartment I hadn't planned on having a chair in there.  It is a small room. But I missed my chair.  I needed my chair.  So the other day I decided to bring it upstairs.  
So about the pain in my shoulders... I have disk degeneration in my neck.  Probably my lower back too, but the ones in my neck have been causing me problems for a long time.  I do a lot of things in odd ways to accommodate.  For example I mop the floors with towels and my feet.  I push a lot of things on the floor with my feet.  Etc...  I have managed to kind of roll furniture to move it and I figured I could do that with my chair.  At the last minute I asked my sister to help.  That pained me but I did it.  I know.... hoisting my 'stuff' onto someone else.  Breaking an important family rule. 
 As you can see we got it to the top of the stairs.  We even got it past the baby gate!  It was then that we ran into problems....

Some of you may recall the time I got trapped by my bed.  Well, actually I was trapped IN my bed.  I got my arm stuck... long story... anyhow.  I have a history of being trapped by my furniture.  So this was my sister taking pictures because I was trapped in my bedroom.  
After awhile we gave in and called my nephew Zachary for help.  We (and by we I mean me) knew we were setting ourselves up for endless jokes and ridicule for the predicament I was in but there wasn't any food in there so I knew I couldn't last too long.    After Zachary stopped laughing he realized he couldn't do anything either and so we called Brandon.  Well, my sister did because I didn't have my phone.  That's right trapped in my room with NO PHONE OR FOOD!  As I understand it Brandon's response was "Okay Ethel I will be right over"  alluding to the fact that there is a Lucy & Ethel thing going on and everyone knows who Lucy is in this scenario.  

 Soooooo they had to take off the door!

But they were successful!  YAY!  

I LOVE having a chair in my room.   

But.... well... the color isn't quite right so I am going to try to 

switch it out with a recliner later today.

Wish me luck!!!

Meanwhile, my sister would be very disappointed if I didn't share her recent home improvement story. 

So she noticed a bubble in the ceiling of her apartment.

Remember--- part of the reason we sold our house and got our apartments is so 

someone else had to fix stuff (note: moving your furniture doesn't count)

So she poked at the bubble with her curling iron (clearly not the right tool for the job.  Everyone knows that is what a toothbrush is for.  Duh)  and poked a hole through the ceiling.  Now she took a picture but did not include something to gauge perspective but it is about 5 inches in diameter. (that may be a slight exaggeration)