The total weight of the desk, in box, is 175 pounds, and the thing is going upstairs. So while Frank was running errands and whacking the weed jungle in the back yard, I took the desk out of the box, piece by piece, and took each piece upstairs. 400 pieces later, I’m fairly tired. I’m a wimp.
Frank came in from the weed jungle and noticed that I had emptied the box.
FRANK: Oh, you got some of the desk moved upstairs?
SARAHK: I got all of the desk moved upstairs. I’m tired.
FRANK: Yeah, I can tell. Your face looks… you look horrible.
FRANK: I mean… you probably put on eyeliner [I never ever wear eyeliner] or something, and it rubbed off or something?
SARAHK: No. [He walked toward me, studying my face. I noticed his transition-lensed glasses were still dark from being outside.]
FRANK: Oh. Maybe it’s just shadows or something. [Leaning in close.] Oh, yeah. There’s nothing on your face.
SARAHK: Maybe your glasses are still tinted from being outside. And YOU LOOK HORRIBLE! AND SO’S YOUR FACE!
He’s cruel to me.