You know, eventually.
It's one of those grown up things that you do along with getting sets of crockery that all match and getting a full complement of white goods and kitchen appliances that you never use.
I mean I don't need any more, I have a couch to put my bum on, a coffee table to put my feet on, a bed to put my body in and a few other relevant flat surfaces to put TV, books and sundries on and in...
But after having been informed by at least two independent sources - my buttfaced friends... *coff* whom I of course love - that my furnishings give the impression of being constructed mostly of milk crates even when they are not I wonder if I should get around to it.
This presents several difficulties:
- It is almost impossible to get things up my damn stairs. They are narrow and wrap around the side of the building in a way that makes you rethink wearing a thick jacket let alone carrying anything on the way up. You can't even move something long by carrying it on its end as the vertical clearance isn't any more generous than the horizontal.
- One of the reasons I didn't go all out when I first moved in was that I'm only living where I am for my job and wasn't sure how long I'd be there. Now that it's been a year and a half I know I could have done more but how long am I going to be there now? Technically I'm closer to leaving now than I was then and the more stuff I get now the more I'll have to move later and that just seems like a pain in the arse.
- I love the character of my place, the strange decorations and cracks and signs of life that it's gathered over the years but given its age (about 150 years I'm told) I'm worried about putting anything too heavy up there for fear of it going through the floor. This might sound a bit paranoid but my friendly and cheerful landlord one day took it upon himself to cheerfully and friendlily point out a spot on the balcony out back where he'd had to mend the floor because someone had gone through a decade or two back.
- I don't like buying things just for the hell of it. If I don't actually like them and need them I don't want them in my home. I would resent them and they would make me cranky. I don't care if other people like them, if they like them so much they can bloody buy them and dust them and find things to put on them and avoid covering them with flotsam and jetsam.
So on mature reflection I have decided, bugger it.
I'll get some more bits when I'm good and ready and in the meantime I will continue to spend my money on the important things - food, comics and CDs.
As a concession I will take a leaf out of Fran Katzenjammer's book and utilise Indian throws for special occasions.
If anyone protests I will put the Indian throws over them.
Just let them try to get down the stairs then!