My grandma and I today went shopping and bought a ton of new furnishings for my apartment. I almost never buy new, I usually go hunting through thrift stores for all of my needs. However, this time I was able to get some good Memorial Day deals, so I bought:
-A big, white microwave,
-A “Torchiere” (fancy lamp)
-A vial of crack cocaine for my homeless buddies
-An upright vaccuum for cleaning my 20 sq ft of floor
-2 sets of dishes (one of which is broken and I have to return)
-A complete set of nice pots and pans
-A knife set, so I can stab myself
-A blow up doll for “companionship”
-A rug for my bathroom floor
-A cutesy fish for holding my toothbrushes
I am starting to feel like Edward Norton in Fight Club. My apartment looks like an Ikea catalogue. Maybe I should blow it up.
I have too many possessions, they are weighing me down. I don’t feel like a free little butterfly anymore. I have 2 enormous TVs (Who wants to buy one?), a mini-fridge, 2 computers, an ancient bed, a solid couch (thanks Melanie Dies), skis, tons of clothing, a broken bicycle (see my earlier post to view my accompanying smashed face), and a ottoman. I should quit my job, give away all my stuff except my bike and my big hiking backpack and go for a ride to the southern tip of South America.