It was a day of barbecues and fireworks for most everyone else, but yesterday I picked out over $3,000 worth of new furniture. I feel like such a girl.
But hey, it was needed. I'm trying to plan the move into the apartment on the other side of this house so that it's completed before my friend from Memphis comes to visit next Tuesday. That meant that I had to get, you know, things to sit on besides milk crates. So my aunt drove me to Wickes Furniture and I picked out a 5-piece living room set (I finally have a real couch now instead of an old loveseat), a sturdy queen-size bed, and a cute little "lingerie drawer," as the saleswoman called it. To which I could have replied, "Hey, I don't need a drawer for my lingerie," but my aunt was there, and I didn't want to alarm her. It's all scheduled to be delivered next Monday while I work, so hopefully that will come off without a hitch. Even if problems arise with moving my DirecTV to that side of the house, my friend and I can spend two days sitting on real furniture and enjoying each other's company while gorging on some Giordano's pizza. I still have to go somewhere and find a TV stand and computer desk for a decent price. But I can do that later. What I really wanted was to have a presentable home for my guest, and that has been taken care of. This was big for me. I never got new furniture for my previous apartments because I wanted to wait until I settled into a place that I was going to stay in for a while. So as a result, what I presented to all those, ahem, ladies that I hosted over the last couple of years was a shitty apartment with shitty furniture and a mattress balancing on eight milk crates. Ooh, sexy. But it was perfect because I felt like shit at the time, so I presented an accurate portrayal of myself. And now, for my Memphis friend, I will be presenting a home that I can be proud of, an actual place that I would want to host company in. And that's an accurate portrayal of what I feel inside right now, because I am proud of myself and I feel that I am worthy of presenting to the world as is, not a perfect man, but doing the best I can. And it feels so good to know that someone else sees me that way, because my harsh judgment of myself has always been rooted in what I feel people see when they see me. Not my friend. She sees a good person trying his best, and that pushes me every day to keep doing the things I have been doing so far this year to stay on the right path. And when she steps into my home next week and doesn't have to step over newspaper and garbage and doesn't have to sit on one side of the loveseat because the other side is broken and doesn't snag her jeans on a broken chair that I didn't throw away because I was trying to save it, it will be one of my proudest moments because for the first time, I will open my door to someone and welcome a guest into my home...and not cringe at the thought of what she must think of me based on the filth that I live in.