The Universe Has Spoken
And it has whispered thus:
Go on, go ahead and get a rug for your living room, and don't cheap out: make it the right rug.
Don't you love it when the Universe is on your side?
Do you want me to tell you the whole story? (It's okay if you don't. My husband has spent the last 10 years trying--in vain--to train me to skip all the backstory and get to the point.)
Okay. I'll tell you the short version first. I bought a rug on overstock one late night in a panic of SELL OUT RISK: HIGH. I knew it was probably not right but I went ahead and done did it anyway.
See? Kind of sort of almost great. But truly the stripes should not be variegated (but more even, like most of these) and the blue is off--too True Blue. Too coastal. I lived with it for a couple of days kind of squinting at it to make the color work because the price tag worked. (I am a professional: do NOT try this at home!) I even tried to pretend that I needed to boot the dining room rug in favor of this guy. (Long story here.)
The truth is, I am not very good at saving up and patiently waiting for perfect. I am much better at finding really good right NOW. Plus, it's hard, structurally, to save up for a purchase like a 9x12 rug when you run your own deal and your income ebbs and flows accordingly. My husband, bless him, said to me, as I rolled up the "really great deal" in really great despair: well, you'll just have to find some extra money to get the right rug.
Yes he did.
And the very next day I got a call about a freelance writing gig, and I spent the weekend before the fourth holiday single momming it while my husband was at a bachelor party out of town and writing 5 articles to the tune of almost the price of a new rug. (Very excited about this new gig and hope to tell you more about it soon.)
(Oh, and that's a picture of "single momming it," in case this is not self-evident. Yes, I carry my children on my back, crawling on my hands and knees when my husband is away.)
And then last week the phone rang and a major magazine that I subscribe to invited me to come to a paid focus group, for just about the amount I think I need to close the gap on new rug-hood. And that's what we call "finding extra money" folks.
Now. It is possible that the universe intended to hand me this money to pay the hospital bill for my 4 year old who was sent to the emergency room by an over excited Target Clinic employee. Or it is possible that the universe wants me to pay to take down the near-dead tree in our front yard that could have caused major damage during the recent storms that brought down a ton of beautiful old trees.
But, as I make a collage and wait to see what is in the next envelope for my focus group homework while making out with a Coke Zero to keep myself up at night, I am accepting only one earmark for these dollars: One new rug.
Thanks, Universe.
Now, what kind of rug shall it be?
Go on, go ahead and get a rug for your living room, and don't cheap out: make it the right rug.
Don't you love it when the Universe is on your side?
Do you want me to tell you the whole story? (It's okay if you don't. My husband has spent the last 10 years trying--in vain--to train me to skip all the backstory and get to the point.)
Okay. I'll tell you the short version first. I bought a rug on overstock one late night in a panic of SELL OUT RISK: HIGH. I knew it was probably not right but I went ahead and done did it anyway.
See? Kind of sort of almost great. But truly the stripes should not be variegated (but more even, like most of these) and the blue is off--too True Blue. Too coastal. I lived with it for a couple of days kind of squinting at it to make the color work because the price tag worked. (I am a professional: do NOT try this at home!) I even tried to pretend that I needed to boot the dining room rug in favor of this guy. (Long story here.)
The truth is, I am not very good at saving up and patiently waiting for perfect. I am much better at finding really good right NOW. Plus, it's hard, structurally, to save up for a purchase like a 9x12 rug when you run your own deal and your income ebbs and flows accordingly. My husband, bless him, said to me, as I rolled up the "really great deal" in really great despair: well, you'll just have to find some extra money to get the right rug.
Yes he did.
And the very next day I got a call about a freelance writing gig, and I spent the weekend before the fourth holiday single momming it while my husband was at a bachelor party out of town and writing 5 articles to the tune of almost the price of a new rug. (Very excited about this new gig and hope to tell you more about it soon.)
(Oh, and that's a picture of "single momming it," in case this is not self-evident. Yes, I carry my children on my back, crawling on my hands and knees when my husband is away.)
And then last week the phone rang and a major magazine that I subscribe to invited me to come to a paid focus group, for just about the amount I think I need to close the gap on new rug-hood. And that's what we call "finding extra money" folks.
Now. It is possible that the universe intended to hand me this money to pay the hospital bill for my 4 year old who was sent to the emergency room by an over excited Target Clinic employee. Or it is possible that the universe wants me to pay to take down the near-dead tree in our front yard that could have caused major damage during the recent storms that brought down a ton of beautiful old trees.
But, as I make a collage and wait to see what is in the next envelope for my focus group homework while making out with a Coke Zero to keep myself up at night, I am accepting only one earmark for these dollars: One new rug.
(making out with a Coke Zero. Is it weird that I'm kind of palming it?
In all honesty, these are the kinds of pictures my husband chooses to take of me. Isn't he sweet?)
Thanks, Universe.
Now, what kind of rug shall it be?