SO Tired

Today I moved the furniture in our living room all around the room, only to move it back to its original resting place at the end of the day.  No other arrangement seemed to work well with our furniture, and now I am exhausted and comforting myself with three things:  

1. It wasn't really pointless effort because now I know that the way we have things arranged is the best possible way.
2. I was able to vacuum under the sofa and armchair as well as clean the baseboards behind said furniture.  A lot of dust can accumulate in two years. 
3. I was going to rearrange the books on our various household bookshelves anyway, so it wasn't a waste of energy to remove ALL the books from one nice-sized shelf, tug the bookshelf across the room and back and then put all the books back on the shelf again, albeit in different locations.  

Ella really had a hard time with understanding what in the world I was doing.  I tried to explain that I wanted to see how the furniture looked in different places.  She finally agreed that it was okay for me to move it as long as I put it back where it belonged when I was done. I kept thinking of a passage from Jan Karon's These High Green Hills.  My husband empathizes with Father Tim completely.  That's why I did this while he was away.  Father Tim writes to his bishop:

Why are women always moving things around?  At Sunday School, Jena Ivey just had the youth group move the kindergarten bookcases to a facing wall.  On the homefront, my house help has moved a ladderback chair from my bedroom into the hall, never once considering that I hung my trousers over it for 14 years, and put my shoes on the seat so they could be found in an emergency.  Last but certainly not least, if C could lift me in my armchair and put it by the window while I'm dozing, she would do it.  Without a doubt, you have weightier things to consider, but tell me, how does one deal with this?

His bishop replies:

In truth, it is disconcerting when one's househelp, SS supervisor, and wife do this sort of thing all at once. My advice is:  do not fight it.  It will wear off.  P.S.  Martha would add a note, but she is busy moving my chest of drawers to the far side of our bedroom.  As I am dealing with an urgent matter with the House of Bishops, I could not be brow-beaten to help, and so she has maneuvered it, at last, onto an old bedspread, and I can hear her hauling the whole thing across the floor above me.  This particular behavior had lain dormant in her for nearly seven years, and has suddenly broken forth again.  Perhaps it is something in the water.