fallfromgrace

So, I spent my first night in my new place last night. the only strange things about the place are the water control knob in the shower is reversed, and the entryway light switch also turns on the kitchen light. that and the walls drip blood and you can hear the chorused screams of the damned if you put your ear next to the fusebox.

My desk, computer, Bed, and some other things* are in Bellingham. I'm going to get the desk and the other things"

I'm tempted, really want to leave the bed in Bellingham and get a new sofa bed from IKEA. IKEA is having a sale starting tomorrow and ending on the 5th.

my reasoning is, I want a bigger bed, and I don't want to lose seating space or make the "living room" look odd. there's a "shelving unit" that I want that is quite large and affordable that I will end up getting. however. I got my eye on a nice sofa bed, but I'm not sold on the idea of buying something to replace what I have. technically it would be paid for with real money, but that real money could also be used to pay for debt. the truth is I'm just itching to fill my place up; it's a huge place for me, honestly. I could have gotten by with half the space.

I also, out of the blue, want a TV.

now, I'm not a big TV watcher. I play video games (actually I play WoW). But my desk, the hulking behemoth that it is, could function as a entertainment center, had I a monitor/TV large enough.

the crazy part being, I didn't want a TV before. I made this list of "things I needed" and "things I wanted" and it wasn't on either column. But now, I want one.

I think my break from reality and fiscal responsibility stems from this idea that, for the first time, I could conceivably "entertain guests" at my place. I imagine myself, drink mixer in hand and dressed in an evening robe, (maybe I grew one of those short, thing mustaches that doesn't meet in the middle, or I have a Monocle; of course I would have a Macanudo to puff on) and people are sitting around, chatting and having a splendid time. "Did you hear about Mr. Bullingshoresworth's new aquisition in the cotton industry?" someone would say. "why, Isn't he the young entrepenuer from the coast, newly engaged to the debutante Miss Clarington Masterson-Morris, actress of some note and heir to the Morris family fortune?" someone else would say, then there would be awkward silence as the group pondered her recent lapse into hysteria after succumbing to "the vapors". "Pshaw!" I would say!

then I realize I don't live in the fucking 19th century.

Still, I look at this space I've aquired (ok ok, leased for a very short period) and I think about all the promise it would have. I need to make myself employed first ultimately. I can afford a bookshelf, and perhaps a new bed if I really feel the need to do such. but decking the place out is beyond me.

but a man can dream. can't he? now fetch me my monocle.