Going to pick up my desk without some muscle was a major, major mistake. Got it inside a friend's loaned Blazer, but the box was about 5 feet high and 3 across, and elicited the following dialogue at the Crate & Barrel loading dock:
Me: "I'm picking up a Bungalow Desk."
Stockboy [staring]: "You are an evil, evil person."
So I trundled home, and roused Jenn for some help getting it upstairs. Unfortunately, she could only manage from the car to the bottom of the steps. Great effort, though. I couldn't sling it on my back but finally managed to push it up the stairs, end over end, with Jenn providing alignment and landing guidance.
So now there's a giant box standing in my bedroom. Hope no big trucks drive by tonight.