The thought of moving large amounts of furniture in small amounts of time can induce mild panic, but it's important to not get ahead of yourself.
Otherwise you might look back and see a worried version of yourself looking forward, wondering if it's ever all going to fit.
Besides, you had a chance to get a removalist and baulked at the quote. So now you have to hire the truck, pick up the truck, pack the truck and then unpack the truck.
Usually at least eight times before you even get moving - because nothing ever fits properly first go. This is something you typically discover just after what you thought was the first go, and it can have a major impact on morale. Particularly if you've strapped things down in hard-to-get places with knots few boy scouts could decipher, which, of course, you have. Now you have to scramble back up over the furniture in order to undo what you thought was all your good work and start again. Your "good work" actually created more work, but you didn't know that at the time and so the realisation, when it comes, is just that bit more devastating, and amplified because there's at least another 10 hours of this trial and error ahead and you're already physically shot.
At this stage it's not unusual to go to a special place characterised by lots of swearing.
Luckily you have a mate who's kindly agreed to lend a hand/witness the meltdown. You find it incredibly bonding when he assures you the same thing happened to him last time he moved, but he might have just been being polite.
Finally when the truck/tardis/Tetris is jammed shut, you drive to your destination in the kind of depleted condition few driving authorities would recommend.
Then you do it all in reverse taking care to ignore damage to goods done in transit so you can ignore damage to goods done as you move them into the house. The damage happens in this way because a) you didn't get a removalist; and b) you're gawwwwnnn.
Lifting a cup of tea is now an effort, as indicated by the fact you pour most of yours down your shirt when it's finally time to take a break. But it's not time for a break. It's time to return the truck, crawl home and then collapse into bed, or the floor, or whatever comes first.
You knew all this the night before it all happened, and worrying about things to come is a natural enough response to having a future. But it's important not to get ahead of yourself.
Diversion is the great "handbrake" for the "hill park" that is "getting ahead of yourself". It locks you in a stable state of what some call "complacency" on the slippery slope staring into the abyss and allows you to step back, and possibly drink beer and watch the footy.
Having said that, next morning it is necessary that in not getting ahead of yourself you take it one step at a time and back yourself, but not into a corner, or any other area that might damage the hire truck, because on top of everything else, that would be really stressful.