Crash wall

Breezy morning.
Talked into switching daughter and guest room - carried away by her enthusiasm, intoxicated by the chance to thin out her stuff.
Dragged shelves, mattresses, books, what?
10:45 am, end of peak.
Dragged some more - unsure of details: barely adequate behavior, one short blow up, the rest foggy.
2:36 pm, reached crash wall.
4:48 pm, still hurting real bad, slow mo.

Was it worth it, for the one bag of cleared junk, for the room 1/2 done, guest room furniture lining the hall, upheaval, disarray? Probably not, but I won't commit. That's just too harsh for me right now. I'm hurting, heavy, and my daughter wants to change it back. No go, I go. I'm one tiny step from the edge... yet I feel oddly secure... a tiny stone to cling to? A whale size vision? Just being cool with it... survival mode.