For the past nine years, we've moved a dining room table and chairs from place to place. Not that we've used it for any of that time. We moved here and it went into a storage unit at the apartment building. We moved to another rental and it occupied space in the garage. We moved into our current living quarters, which has no storage space, so the dining set--six chairs, base and (very heavy) glass top--went into a storage unit. We shifted things around, and the dining set was moved into our on-site storage building, where it was continually in the way and parts were moved around to get to something else.
At long last, we decided to part company with the dining set. I thoroughly cleaned the chairs and re-upholstered the seats, and they sold in a heartbeat at a consignment furniture place. The table itself was problematic. The sides were covered with custom tiles. Originally, it was a beautiful base, but our dry climate caused the tile adhesive to dry up, the no-longer-available tiles fell off and broke, leaving us with an un-sellable table. I tried to sell it, noting that it needed repair. No takers. I tried selling the glass top only, mentioning that a new base could be made. No deal. I finally posted it as free just to get it out of my storage building. It had become the "albatross around my neck."
While I've heard that expression all my life, I never knew where it came from:
"This phrase refers to lines from the poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, in which the eponymous mariner, who shoots an albatross, is obliged to carry the burden of the bird hung around his neck as a punishment for and reminder of his ill deed." The Phrase Finder
I can't think of anything I've done so horrible that I should deserve this, but worrying about what to do with the dining set literally woke me up a number of times.
Even when I finally found a taker for it and moved it out of my storage building into the driveway where it was both in the way and exposed to whatever could happen to it, she didn't come as promised, and it sat there as if to taunt me to the very last minute.
Finally, the albatross has flown away. Fly... be free!