Broken Hearted

I'm in the process of writing a rather obnoxious and detailed post about moving into our new apartment this coming week.  I've been collecting ideas for decorating projects and hunting down fabric.  I'll get that up in a day or two.  This post is not about that.  This post is about the fact that I went to Value Village today just to see what they had- and I found THIS:

 

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.