I like my furniture like I like my men– real fixer-uppers. Diamonds in the buff, if you will.
But lately, I’m starting to think I better curb that instinct to take in “strays,” convincing myself all the while that I’M soooooo special that I’LL be the one (the only one) to truly transform them. (Wait a minute… we’re still talking about furniture now, right?) Progress is… NOT hauling an old beat-up piano I saw on the street into my Mini Cooper, thinking “My crafty, DIY skills will fix it up & get it tuned! It’ll sound gr8!” This is the equivalent of dating a junkie I found on the street and thinking “My undying love and quirky persona will fix him up & get him in tune w/his higher self! He’ll be great!”
- You mean my love is NOT transformative and all-powerful? Huh.
marybirdsong on Instagram.