How could one wardrobe weigh so much?

...okay, that's a stupid question. It weighs so much because they're the pre-closet equivalent of a closet. I picked mine up years ago. It used to be beautiful, birds-eye maple, clean art deco lines with greek-key inlay and the original drawer liners.

The person who had it before me thought the swirled patterns and sleek knobs were old fashioned, so he took the knobs off and replaced them with shiny blue plastic, and painted the whole thing with white latex.

I've been picking at it for years. I'd just gotten down to the inlay.

It's so heavy I told Cowboy we'd have to cut it in half so we could carry it down the stairs. Cowboy's face lit up. I have this ax--and a theory about repressed rage. He wanted to slam that wardrobe, I could feel it like a high-tension electric wire.

Too bad the ax bounced off.

There's a reason chopping blocks are made of maple.

We ended up taking the doors and drawers off. I thought we were going to tumble headlong down the stairs. An hour and every bit of heavy furniture later, my house was clear except for two computer desks, a couple of chairs and some luggage. I brought some carry-out home and my daughter dropped it on the floor. We have phantom furniture. I find myself turning almost constantly.

I saved the dining room table as a treat for my kid. She's got a mad going--and she tore that set to pieces. When she finished with it, it looked like kindling. She's got blisters, but she's calm, like all the anger leached out.

For some reason, I always thought that scene in Brockman's Over the Edge was a little contrived--y'know, the one where Sam and Alyssa have just broken up, she's left him and he can't deal with the pain, so he shatters everything in the room? Maybe there is something to it.