Can't Talk Now.

The couch is here! And only 4 hours after the 6 hour "window" of delivery time. Excellent!

At the furniture store, we'd meant to simply point to our sofa of choice and then write out directions to our home. But in the end, we were seized with doubt. We could either buy the couch we loved, or get a perfectly great other couch for much less money. We sat on both, imagining what we'd do with the extra money. I guess we figured we'd just blow it anyway, because we left with a scorching receipt for the expensive one.

Then we drove to other stores so I could buy non-matching (I hate matching!) but complimentary chairs. And then it didn't stop there. It never does, does it?

As I directed Jason around the room, having him push the immense sofa this way and that, straighten the chairs and then slant them again, try the coffee table horizontally, vertically, perpendicularly...and then finally remove it altogether, I came to the conclusion that this great expanse of white was slowly but surely killing me.

I left my exasperated husband to arrange a couch so big that it didn't really fit in our living room and so expensive that he wanted to cry now that I'd rejected it for its whiteness. When I returned, I saw no less than 3 empty Heinies by his dozing feet. My bicep hurt from the walk; I'd come home with a can of paint called Cranberry Zing.

So you'll have to excuse me from the blogging. I'm busy vomiting colour back into my living room, probably closing it up and making it look smaller than it is...but I'll like it, and as Jason knows, that's all that matters.

Ciao.