Very Bad Things
I probably shouldn’t complain about our cushy soft middle class life, but when one of your two (old and paid for) cars blows a head gasket and the other is taking in water fast enough to sink an Italian cruise ship, it hurts. Right now I am adding up couches and upholstery and wallpaper and getting very very very sad, because something has to give. Maybe food? Prenatal care?
Oh hell no. Anything but daycare.
In other news, I really like this color:
With this couch:
Our front room/study is painted almost that exact shade of peacocky teal (thank you, Sanders!), and Alexis is currently presiding over the room in all her 70s raggedy oatmeal tweed glory. You remember that bitch, right?
Yes — despite many reservations I kept her, and actually she fits perfectly into a tight space. So maybe if I eat wonderbread for a year I can afford to have Alexis recovered in some fabulous salmon velvet.
Say it with me: wonderbread grows healthy babies.
Things are going to be just fine.
[interior via Christian May’s fabulous pinterest]