*stamps stress back into hole*

Thank you, people, for calming me down last night. I hate it when I get like that, because I like to think of myself as a capable, competent person who can deal with things on her own. ( In which I psychoanalyse myself, and give thanks that most of the time I'm perfectly happy living in denial of my own feelings. )

It's all good, though. I'm fine now, and you all gave me some great suggestions, and I think I have a plan. Of course, I'd have a better idea of whether this plan will work if I'd measured the room yesterday, but pfft. I realize now that it doesn't matter. I have a feeling the One Chair isn't going to fit through the door, but that's what movers are for, and it won't kill me to sit on the floor for a while.

*For instance I really felt that I needed someone else there with me when I moved, and it took me days to allow myself to ask if anyone could come by. I just hate it - hate making anyone beholden to me.