Tuesday, August 15, 2006
And Early Middle Age Sets In
I have, it appears, become the kind of person I hate.
Now that I own a condo, I find myself constantly worrying about how my activities in my home will impact the paint or the floors. I refuse to have more than ten people over at a time for fear they'll start spilling and scuffing at random. After they leave, I go around with a towel and wipe up any marks their shoes may have left on the floor. I ask people to use coasters. Last month some of my friends threw a head of lettuce off the roof and, instead of finding it hilarious, I just got straight to work cleaning it up. It is, to be fair, not a very flightworthy green.
What's more, I now spend a good deal of time shopping for cleaning products, fixtures, and furniture to adorn my better home/garden. Last weekend I nearly had a breakdown in the Home Depot because I couldn't find the right kind of light bulb for my kitchen, and then I spent four hours crisscrossing the city unsuccessfully looking for suitable rugs. In the past two days I have endlessly debated the merits of various dining tables, despite the fact that 1) I can probably count the number of times I've cooked in my place on one hand and 2) I have literally never eaten at my current dining table. Something is clearly wrong with me.
On the other hand, I do still have a framed Simpsons poster in my possession, so I haven't classed myself up too awful much.
I have, it appears, become the kind of person I hate.
Now that I own a condo, I find myself constantly worrying about how my activities in my home will impact the paint or the floors. I refuse to have more than ten people over at a time for fear they'll start spilling and scuffing at random. After they leave, I go around with a towel and wipe up any marks their shoes may have left on the floor. I ask people to use coasters. Last month some of my friends threw a head of lettuce off the roof and, instead of finding it hilarious, I just got straight to work cleaning it up. It is, to be fair, not a very flightworthy green.
What's more, I now spend a good deal of time shopping for cleaning products, fixtures, and furniture to adorn my better home/garden. Last weekend I nearly had a breakdown in the Home Depot because I couldn't find the right kind of light bulb for my kitchen, and then I spent four hours crisscrossing the city unsuccessfully looking for suitable rugs. In the past two days I have endlessly debated the merits of various dining tables, despite the fact that 1) I can probably count the number of times I've cooked in my place on one hand and 2) I have literally never eaten at my current dining table. Something is clearly wrong with me.
On the other hand, I do still have a framed Simpsons poster in my possession, so I haven't classed myself up too awful much.
