It's. Just. A. Couch!

So. I have hatched this wild and crazy hair-brained idea to redecorate my living room.  It's been a long time coming, as I've been a bit weary of my current look and color scheme for the past, hmm, year or so. It's not that my current set-up is all that terrible, of course.  It's just...well, I've had the same look and all the rest of it since my very first 5th floor walk-up, one bedroom apartment, way back in 2004.  After 8 years, I've grown a touch weary of cranberry and khaki.  (No offense, cranberry and khaki.  You're nice colors, I swear.)

Of course, redecorating a living room - even if it's in an apartment - isn't exactly something you just do overnight.  Particularly when things like new furniture is involved.  Speaking of which, I'd like to update you on my ongoing couch hunt.  But first, a quick tale about irony.  At times, I've been known to use an analogy about couch-shopping when talking about the ever-curious, often times maddening world of dating.  I personally don't think I'm too picky (just wanting them to have a pulse doesn't count as picky, right?  Ha.  I jest.) when it comes to men and dating, but if the conversation ever steers that way among friends, I usually explain the following.  "You can be sure," I'll tell my friends, "that I'm going to be picky about who I date.  I mean, imagine how much homework, research, and comparison shopping I'd do if I was buying a couch?  And that's just a couch!"

I've even been known to take the couch/dating analogy a step further when friends want to know why I'm no longer seeing a guy and/or have declined further dates.  "If I know I want a yellow couch," I say, "why would I spend anytime looking at the red ones?"  (To which one of my friends once replied: "But maybe a red couch would be the perfect thing and you don't know it because you never even looked at them?")  Maybe.  Though I like to think one of my strong points is being self-aware.  And I know I don't want a red couch.  Coral?  Maybe someday.  Not red.

But anyway!  Here I am, finally, actually, talking about my search for a real, honest to goodness couch instead of liking a potential suitor to one.  And I'm here to tell you, couch hunting, it turns out can be just as utterly frustrating and maddening as the world of dating.    

First off, these suckers are expensive.  I'm lucky in that I've never had to buy a couch before, having been given the same couch my mother had in her early apartments back in the '70's.  But dude.  The sticker price on some of these?  I'll be eating pb&j for weeks to make up for it.

Second, I think there can be such a thing as too many options.  Have you ever wandered into a furniture store or done an online search of these things?  Sleeper or No?  Square legs or round?  Square arms or round?  Slipcover or no?  Color?  Fabric? Size?

Third, when you're investing in something like a couch, you have to know you're going to have it for a long time.  (Case in point, please see above. I'm using the same couch my mother bought when she was 25.)  Which simply adds to the pressure of picking the right one.  See what I mean about it being a lot like dating?

Fourth, on Sunday I drove out to suburbs intent on finding a furniture store my mother recommended.  I had the address, I had directions.  And despite my eight attempts driving along the four lane highway, I could not find the store.  I know, I know.  It sounds crazy.  But I swear, "625 Worcester Avenue" does not exist.  There's a Nissan dealership at 621 Worcester Ave and right next door there's a Whole Foods, conveniently numbered at 631, but no 625.  Frustrated to the extreme after my sixth pass, I called the store to make sure they hadn't relocated.  "Oh, no we're still at 625," the salesclerk told me.

"Ok.  Could you give me some sort of landmark or something?  I seem to be driving right past it."

"Um.  A Landmark?  (I heard her muffle the phone, asking someone else what sort of landmarks were around.  (Ahem, to which I wanted to scream - HOW DO YOU DRIVE TO WORK EVERYDAY AND NOT KNOW WHERE YOU ARE GOING?) But before I could ask that, she came back on the line:"Oh, well, where are you now?"

"I'm in the Trader Joes parking lot, in between Trader Joes and Whole Foods."

"Oh, okay. You have to come back.  We're before Whole Foods."

"Before Whole Foods is a Nissan dealership."

"Yes, in between."

This is the part where I shake my head as I type and do my best to stop my blood from boiling again.
Because, dearest woman who was of no help, I can tell you for sure that THERE WAS NOTHING IN BETWEEN.  I even drove through the car dealership wondering if somehow they'd tucked an entire furniture store in the back of the building.  Frustrated, I gave up, thinking to myself as I made my way back home that maybe my current couch was just fine after all...at least I could find that one.

And again, I repeat myself.  Couch hunt =  dating.