I’ve lit a couple of candles and turned on my Sylvan Esso Pandora station. I’m adjusting to living alone.
This adjustment comes after a hell of year. The death of my father, working my way halfway through a masters degree and a friendly divorce leave me in a new home, trying to make things as cozy and comfortable as possible.
I’ve decorated my kitchen with all of my Wonder Woman and comic book artwork and my bedroom is pretty and feminine… but my living room leaves something to be desired.
It feels cold.
I’m thinking that all I need to make it complete is a rug and a coffee table. A rug to make things feel warm and welcoming and a table to break up the space.
I’ve been half-heartedly shopping at thrift stores and flea markets, but nothing has begged me to take it home. I’m taking my time finding a coffee table. I don’t want to rush into buying a table that I don’t really like, just so that I will have somewhere to prop up my feet.
I’ve seen plenty of good looking tables online, but they either don’t fit my personality or my budget. I mean, I can make do without one for a while, right?
My friends say that when I stop looking for a coffee table, the right one will come along.
I know what they mean. Just when you have a houseful of furniture, you find that perfect thing that whispers your name and you have nowhere in your life to put it.
So for now, I’m keeping my options – and my living room – open. I’m wiggling around and getting comfortable with the idea of there being more space in my life.
Besides, I totally have a side table to sit my drink on.