needy.

I tried to buy a couch.  I really did.  It just seems like such a big commitment.  And every one I sat on I thought, can I sit on this every day for fifteen years?  The answer was always I DON’T KNOW THAT’S SO LONG!

I told myself I can buy a new couch in a year if I end up hating this one.  It’s not really that big a deal.  But I seem to be more sure of spending every day with Keith , a person who reasonably will change within the span of fifteen years, than a piece of furniture that won’t.

But what of the STYLE?  Couches suck.  I can appreciate them once they are in a room, covered in pillows and blankets, surrounded by lighting and pictures and tables and friends.  But I never think "Oh wow.  That, there, is one nice couch."  But they’re the base of the room.  They take up a whole lot of it.  WHAT IF I MAKE THE WRONG DECISION?!

So I went to 3 different stores last night.  I sat on a hundres different couches, sectionals, loveseats, and chairs.  No futons, though.  I’m a grown up, dammit.  And futons make me think of my college house and that bigass drunk black dude who peed all over our futon.  We threw that sucker out.

Three stores.  And by the third I was completely lost.  "Do you need help, miss?"  "I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!  I HAVE NOWHERE TO SIT AND I NEED A COUCH BUT WHY ARE THERE SO MANY?!??!"  Thank goodnes I was speaking to the GM of the store.  You know there’s a great salesman in there.  I probably would have bought a couch last night, too, if I could have found him after he left me to look around.  But no such luck.  Instead I called Keith and he tried to talk sense and reason into me. 

"No no no.  I hate every couch.  Couches are stupid.  Let’s sit on the ground forever."  "Kaitlin, that doesn’t make sense.  You’ll find a good couch."  "But WHY aren’t you HERE with me?!"  "I’m working right now."  "I know that, I’m not retarded."  "Then why did you ask?"  "I don’t know.  Shut up.  Stop making this more difficult than it has to be."  "ME?"  "No, that one was for me."  "Sigh"

Anyway, I left the store empty handed, with my wallet full.  The opposite of what was supposed to happen.  Well, I shouldn’t have had anything in my hands I don’t think.  I can’t carry a couch and it wouldn’t fit in my Yaris anyway.

So Keith is going to come with me on Sunday.  I think I just need him there to listen to me sort it out out loud, you know?  That or to make poor couch decisions so I can determine that I hate what he’s pointing to, thus getting me closer to defining what I love.

Sunday.  I’ll figure it out on Sunday.