Last night I sold my trust Karlstaad Ikea couch. The couch I scrimped and saved to buy when I moved into this apartment over 2 years ago. The couch that I was fanatical about not spilling on. . . for the first 6 months. The couch that was just a scootch too short to really lay out on. The couch where Mr. Darcy and I made out on our first date. It was a good couch and served me well.
Yesterday a guy named Freddie came over and bought it. He’ll have to get a new couch cover for it because the one on it was showing the marks of my life.
And now Mr. Darcy and I wait for our new couch to arrive. It was difficult to time the selling of the old couch with the arrival of the new one. It seems like, if we can ever get a hold of someone at Macy’s that isn’t inept, that we won’t be getting our couch until closer to the 21st. Which leaves us with the floor and a pile of pillows to rest on while we watch television.
The upswing is- it frees up a lot of space for a dance party. And when we want to watch a movie, we can blow up the queen-sized air mattress and pretend it’s a slumber party. Maybe play a little Truth or Dare.
We’re slowly buying things to make this place ours. We’re probably tackling the office area this weekend, we’ve got a new rug to buy before the couch arrives, and a craft/art area to fix up in the bedroom. I’d like a new chair but might have to settle for a chair cover while I search out one to my liking. When it’s all done, we’ll take you on a tour of our home.