Remember my post two weeks ago, when I was so pleased with myself and my organization efforts and my clean-up? Hahaha WHAT IS MY LIFE. I had juuuust about gotten things the way I wanted them downstairs in my little house. Then overnight we sprung a leak in the upstairs plumbing, and over the course of the following morning the ceiling came down – not on anybody, and not all at once. But what a mess – wet lathe and plaster all over my living room, my tax papers and other documents, my carpet and silk curtains, blah blah blah.
The good news is nobody’s hurt, and my perfumes (which I was getting ready to move to that corner!) are unscathed. The bad news is: that’s all the good news I could come up with, and believe me, my look-on-the-bright-side skills are pretty advanced. I have no patience with self-pity, not in this house. Which is why my inability to humor myself past this mess has caught me off guard. I guess I’ve always had a very strong sense of home as a safe place, a nest. You know those folks who are all, eh, home’s wherever I hang my hat and go to sleep! I’m the opposite of that. So having a large part of my tiny house an unusable shambles that won’t get fixed for weeks is something I can’t defeat, no matter how much Murphy’s oil soap and wet mopping I deploy. A bunch of my furniture is now in storage and my perfume’s tucked away. This sucks.
Anyway let’s talk about something else. Sorry for the craptastic lighting and general mess, here’s a picture of my new dresser (Anita and I nicknamed her La Bruta), which showed up two days post-disaster. I’d been looking for awhile to replace my curbside special, and this was not at all what I’d been picturing, let me assure you, and then I saw her on Craigslist and lost my fricking mind. I still can’t decide whether I think she’s fantastic or hideous, but hey, deal’s done! It was quite a chore to get her delivered, and then I had a few minutes of panic when it looked like they weren’t going to be able to maneuver her up the turn in the stairs to my bedroom. She’s massive, and even with the drawers out she’s really heavy.
So. Setting aside our, ah, perfume acquisitions, what’s the most impulsive, ridiculous thing you’ve purchased? How’d it work out for you? Or are you not prone to those feats of madness? Do you pull stuff from people’s trash? My kids used to want to die whenever I pulled over to grab something but now they think it’s awesome. I’ve gotten great things from the trash, including the two Clifford Pascoe chairs in my kitchen, which almost makes up for the Paul McCobb dining table my dad must have set out for the trash pickup a few years ago. Almost. I’m looking to replace it. Wish me luck.