My so-called domestic life
Over the past few months, I have been transitioning from the free-spirited life of being a renter into the responsible (though still spirited) life of being a homeowner. Looking around my new space, I realized that it looked like a college student lived in my condo, not an official Capital-A-dult.
I decided to do something.
I bought a rug.
A real, grown-up rug.
Funny, though, but the decision was agony. It tooks week of thinking and discussions with friends, "Should a rug really cost $300????" (Um, yes, they all said. Three hundred is nothing for a good rug.) It was a more complicated process than buying the condo.
And it's only one rug.*
I suppose taking out a hugenormous loan that I'll pay back with my blood, sweat, and tears over the next 30 years is far more abstract and far less real than the concrete feeling of buying a rug. And for a gal who's accustomed to picking up furniture others have abandoned on the city streets, $300 for a rug is a huge deal.
Still it's funny, though.
*Let's not get into the agony over buying table lamps, end tables, chairs, dining room tables, bookshelves....