I too create my own furniture out of mostly-empty pizza boxes
(kinda-related story time: I used to live in an apartment with 4 other gay furries [the sitcom writes itself] and we very often ordered in from dominos. Like so much so our delivery guy seemed to take a genuine interest in how we are doing. But after I spent a day making the kitchen spotless, and the next day it looked as awful as before I touched it, I stopped giving a shit. Of many factors, it was silently decided that the one taking out the trash was the one who lost the game of jenga with the garbage. So skill and precision were needed whenever you were adding to the stack that was as high as an adult (or more), as the actual garbage bin for the apartment complex was like 500 feet away and 4 stories below us. Multiple trips were necessary, even if you bothered to use trash bags to simplify the excursion. I wish I’d have taken photos, this was a challenge where boys became men.)