This couch is my soul mate. I can feel it in all of my guts when I look at it. It was in absolutely beautiful condition, didn't smell or have any stains or tears, the green matches the couch that I already have- and it was $20. TWENTY. On top of that I took the Suburban from work this weekend so I can run errands and move some things on Sunday, so I had the room and means to take it home.
And I didn't buy it. I came back to it seriously about six times, and every time my heart just ached. I told myself I should just get it, and if doesn't fit in the new place, or ends up surprising us with some funkalicious stench we could just get rid of it. But, no. I had to be practical, and now I want to cry. Even the picture makes my insides smushy.
So, instead I bought a bunch of tacky old art, a ceramic owl that you put a candle inside of, and structured leggings with silver zippers which I think are also my pants soul mate.
Ugh. Comfort me.