Oh, I know, I have lots of plans, few of which ever actually come to fruition, but I'm just going to detail one specific one. And no, it isn't going to be the one about hanging out in the Home Depot, trolling for middle-aged men with big trucks who look like they can put up drywall (from the Chinese drywall mines!) and whose children are going to procreate soon and give me step-grandchildren. Because you've heard that one. Like even in this paragraph.
No, this one has to do with the big empty space upstairs in my house which has never been an actual "room" per se, but rather a depository for stuff that doesn't go anywhere else, and a walk through to the rooms off of it. I've painted about 50% of it before and during my vacation. I would have painted more during my vacation, but I ran out of paint in that color. And I haven't been back to the Home Depot to buy more. I'm waiting till I have a good hair and boob day. (<--that's a joke, do I need to start inserting irony tags again?) No, no, I just haven't gotten around to it. I was really busy with other things and then the weather at the end of last week and the beginning of the weekend was sucky enough that I didn't feel like doing errands after work. But you don't care about my lame excuses. Just picture my walls all painted in a lovely light creamy orange color, sorta very muted terra cotta-ish. Also picture that the barbecue that was inside the door to the deck for, um, I dunno, ten years?, has been taken away by those strapping young got-junk guys. And picture that my Tibetan thangka art has arrived, in all its orange-gold-green splendor. You can also picture the recumbent bike and Cardio Glider, if you must, but if you do, be sure you visualize the basket of clean laundry on top of one of them. And picture two formerly over-full bookcases that have been pruned and now need rearranging. Then picture Andrea having a brain flash and thinking, oh! now that the grill and various other things that don't belong there are gone, and the walls are going to be a pretty orange color, I can move the bookshelves around, stick an area rug and something to sit on in the half of the room that isn't being taken up by exercise equipment, and make it into a little reading corner. And then it will look like an actual room!
That's not the plan. That's the explanation leading up to the explanation of the plan. Shut up. So, then I saw this rug on overstock, all orange and green and brown (though apparently, from the reviews, actually lighter brown than it appears on the website, which is a positive, actually), and I thought it would look cute in my reading-corner-to-be. I equivocated for a week or ten days and then they sent me a 10% off coupon in my email. So I bought it. Naturally. Next is the question of "something to sit on." They also have on overstock some Angelo Surmelis furniture. It's cute, cheap crap, but I can get a little apartment-sized sofa for less than $500. I would never buy a piece of crap like that for my actual living room, even though as you know I need new living room furniture. Why am I considering it for spare furniture? Why am I considering spare furniture when I need real furniture? The $700 for the rug and cheapy sofa is, after all, 1/3 of an actual nice living room, right? Why not just save it towards that?
Well, here's how this plan all fits together with the overall plan. The overall plan is this (and for those of you who have already heard the overall plan, my deep apologies for making you suffer through this whole long discursive story just to find out something you already know): eventually, in the future, after my dad is gone, and I have fixed up all the things in this house that need fixing, and the economy/real estate market is better, I would like to sell that huge house I hate so very, very much, and if I have gotten someone to pay for it what the fucking city taxes me on, take that money and buy myself a little condo and D an even littler condo. Preferably in the same building. He would have his privacy and a push to more independence, I would have my privacy, and I'd still be able to keep an eye on him and help him out. So! When that day occurs, if I have excess cheap but cute furnishings filling up this too-big house, we'll have something to move into his theoretical tiny condo. In the mean time, it'll make the house look nicer, especially when I have to bring (again, theoretical) clients through there on their way to my new spiffy massage room.
Just like buying the two pairs of shoes at 10:30 at night from zappos, this all makes *perfect* sense. If you're me. (I haven't actually bought a sofa yet though. I'm sure I'll get another 10% off coupon at some point.)
The End, and about fucking time.
xoxo
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