Dear future hubster,
when you notice that I finally started assembling the shelving unit I bought months ago, don't just assume that I finally overcame my laziness, and assessed the temperature as bearable for such endeavour.
That may as well be true, but there is a high chance of furniture assembling being either the trigger or the symptom of some mild existential crisis. Spiced up with an anti-feminist moment.
That, or I'm re-evaluating my shoe stocks.
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