OK, not really. I've been a brunette and a redhead, but never will I be a blond.After the one billionth time of coming up the stairs at my house and seeing the dust under my bed because in the three years I have lived here I have not managed to put the dust ruffle on my bed, today was the day. I lugged the vacuum up the stairs, vacuumed under the bed, dug through two (count 'em, TWO!) closets to locate the elusive dust ruffle and then set about finagling the bed so I could move the mattress off the bed and not break anything. This was no mean feat as I am the clumsiest person I know. It's one thing to move a mattress with another person, it's another thing to move a mattress when you are in good physical shape, but as I was alone and am in terrible shape, I consider this an accomplishment.
Your mileage may vary.
I did have flashes that I would do something stupid, pull a muscle or in some way throw out my back or something and I'd be laying under a massive queen-size mattress with no one to help me and no way to get to a phone. The secret fear of all single people, that no one will realize you're missing until it's too late and you're dead and your cats have eaten your face definitely occurred to me a few times in this undertaking. Thankfully, I have no cats, so I can have an open casket at my funeral.
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