"I'll Wait"

At the beginning of April we ordered a couch for the new apartment, and the whole thing has gotten a little ridiculous.  But I think this situation paints a pretty solid picture of who I am.  Like if a screenwriter were trying to write a script about my life, and he wanted to establish character quickly he could use this little vignette about me acquiring a futon for my apartment.

So here's the deal, my parents come to town and we walk into World Market and I'm having a very hard time thinking about getting furniture.  It all seems so big and final.  Like, you can't fit a couch in the back of a Yaris if you decided to pick up and move across country.  And what if it's too big for the apartment?  Or doesn't fit the color scheme?  Or looks old and stuffy?  OR GOD FURNITURE IS SO BIG AND THERE ARE SO MANY FACTORS AT PLAY.  In fact, I refused to pick out a bathmat for my bathroom because it was too big of a decision (it would influence the entire decor of the bathroom... apparently).  So how the fuck am I going to get actual pieces of furniture?

And then all of the sudden, without really looking for it, we stumble upon like the perfect couch.  Well, it's a futon really.  It's tiny, love-seat size; I can handle that.  And it's a futon, it's versatile.  I can deal with this.  Hell, I can more than deal with this.  It's perfect.  I want it.  I more than want it. I need it.  I love it.  I'm obsessed with it. Nothing else compares.  I can't stop thinking about it.

Fast-forward to the next day and we're at World Market with a 10% off coupon (could things be any better about this couch?)... and they don't have any in stock.  That's okay, we'll drive to a store where they do have them in stock.  We'll take the floor model.  Oh, those aren't options?  They are only in stock online?  Great, we'll order online.  I love this couch.  I want this couch.  This is my couch.

So we order.  And it's back-ordered.  That's okay, it means it's popular and lots of people like it.  No problem.  I'll wait.  And we don't hear anything for weeks.  And my parents are trying to show my other (almost identical couches).  "No, that's like an ugly version of my couch."  "No, that's an expensive version of my couch."  "No, that's... that's just not my couch."  And here we are.  Over a month later, still no word on whether this couch is even in stock.  And I'm sitting here in my apartment all, "I'll wait."

Pretty telling, don't you think?