Monday, February 18, 2013

First World Problems

It's important to keep things in perspective. That is why I having been taking deep breaths since yesterday evening. Breathing and reminding myself how fortunate I am that this is the extent of my problems.

That said, yesterday evening sucked. Which was unfortunate because the rest of the weekend had been going really, really well. Then we picked up our new chair.

Let me take a step back to say that this chair was a bit of an impulse buy. We had been trying to find a moderately priced dresser that we could use as a changing table. Instead, we found the perfect chair to go in our front room: it swivels, it rocks, it's low profile, and it was on clearance. So, even though we weren't looking for the chair, we had given a lot of thought to what we would ultimately put in that spot, and it was this exact piece of furniture...which happened to be on clearance! We easily decided on a fabric color, one called clay that was a brownish orange.

The chair arrived on Saturday, and we picked it up on our way home from a birthday party Sunday evening. We were excited to have it and our plan was to make dinner (homemade chicken pot pie!) and rearrange our living room and basically sit around and congratulate each other on our awesome purchase. turns out that something was amiss concerning the fabric swatch we looked at when choosing our chair. Was it the light in the furniture store? Is it that a small piece of fabric does not give you a good idea of what a whole piece of furniture will look like? To tell you the truth, I'm not sure. What I am sure of is this: our chair is pink. Lipstick pink. It's HORRIBLE.

Did I mention that my least favorite color in the whole world is pink? I hate it! I despise pink and I simply cannot stand having a pink chair in the prime spot in my front room. I know, I know. Poor me. My new furniture is hideously ugly. Cover it was a blanket and move on with your life, right? But it's brand f'ing new! It's going to be around for at least a decade. And it's HORRIBLE.

So last night, after we stared at the chair, and moved it around in different lights and tried to convince ourselves it wasn't so bad, I threw a blanket over it and we got to work on dinner. Except, of course, that didn't go as planned either. The pre-made puff pastry we had purchased in anticipation of this meal was actually rolls not sheets, so R ran to two stores trying to find the right stuff. Instead, he came home with phyllo dough...and, because he's always worried we won't have enough of something, he came home with two things of phyllo dough*. Which, of course, doesn't work for chicken pot pie crust, no matter how much you cuss at it.

*I now have to figure out what to do with 8 sheets of phyllo dough. This is going to take some serious ingenuity as R doesn't like cooked spinach or feta...which are the only thing that I think of when I think of phyllo dough.

Even better, while R was out buying bulk amounts of useless Greek dough, I fell off the step stool. I don't know how I fell off the step stool, but there I was, on my hands and knees, chicken bullion powder dusting the kitchen floor. I spent the next hour and a half trying not to freak out because THE BABY! WHAT IF I HURT THE BABY??! To kill the suspense, he started kicking and squirming and I'm sure everything is fine.

So, there I am in the kitchen, resigned to making pastry dough from scratch, knees throbbing, panic eating away at me every time my side twinged. I pull out the ingredients and low and behold, not enough shortening. So off R goes to the store, again, while I proceed to burn myself on the stove.

In the end, we rearranged our living room while the pot pie was cooking. It turned out to be delicious in spite of its hideous patchwork appearance - I can never pull a crust up in one piece after I've rolled it out. But whatever. Our bellies were full, our living room was full. Our chair was covered by a much more attractive blanket. I think we'll make it past this.

P.S. R is currently getting quotes on how much it would cost to get the chair reupholstered. So far, it doesn't look good. I'm considering rubbing it down with coffee or tea and resigning myself to a dirty shade of beige. Anything would be better than what it looks like now. Seriously.

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