From Fire Folders to Furniture

Fiorella spent the morning (and then some) going through all of Husband's file folders that had anything in them, then took a couple more loads of the branches of the old Christmas tree out to the road, then set off for town to (1) make sure she and the bank were in accord about her account, (2) mail some letters, and (3) pick up groceries. Somewhere between the bank and H-E-B, she lost su libreta amarilla, which made her so angry that she bought a Milky Way and a bag of Hershey Nuggets and is going to be very sick tonight.  
     Why do things like that happen to Fio? She works so hard, tries to be kind and helpful to all people, sacrifices her life for the sake of theirs. Not the wants or expects to be thanked--that isn't how the world works--but she would at least like for her yellow notebook not to disappear in transit!
     But maybe tomorrow's meet-up with longtime friend Paula will put Fio in a better mood. And maybe, when she inquires again tomorrow, the bank or H-E-B will tell her that a a good Samaritan found Fio's precious libreta in the parking lot. Praying, praying, praying....
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Now that Husband's file cabinet is cleared of content, Fiorella needs to get it downstairs, which is not a one-person job. In fact, Fio is wondering how they ever got upstairs in the first place. Ah--nephew Barrett and his wife will be coming over soon to pick up the lovely antique sofa and chair Fio inherited from her mother-in-law, who inherited them from her mother, and maybe Fiorella could hornswoggle them to help her with the file cabinet.
     Fiorella should add that both the chair and the couch are half falling apart, the same as they were when Mother-in-law owned them. She, like Fio, had planned to have them repaired and reupholstered, but never got around to it. Maybe third time is the charm.