Sweet Anticipation

I recently saw the first episode of the Morgan Spurlock series 30 Days, in which Spurlock and his fiancée go to Columbus, Ohio, and try to live on minimum wage jobs for a month. "The working poor," they kept saying, and I kept feeling like they were talking about me and husband. He's found a job in his field, but it doesn't pay enough for us to buy health insurance, much less to really get set up. In Columbus, when they filmed, there existed "free stores" where said "working poor" could come and pick out donated items that they might need, without charge. The Spurlocks picked up tables and chairs and mattresses and got really nicely set up for that kind of budget! Alas, I haven't found any such free stores in Tucson. There are more thrift stores here than I've ever seen anywhere else, but even if you find something that makes you feel like it's not full of bedbugs, you still have to have your own way of getting it back to your place of residence. Our Honda Civic wouldn't cut it.

So last Saturday night we finally gave in to the irresistible urge to go to Sam Levitz. 

The worst part about buying a new couch is that time period between the purchase and the delivery. Luckily, our waiting period was short. We gave up on the folding chairs, as I mentioned, on Saturday night. We decided that since there was no couch waiting for us in storage in Pennsylvania, it was worth the risk to charge a very reasonably priced futon. It could serve as both a bed and a couch, two things we presently lacked. 

Sunday we imagined how much more wonderful it would be to watch the Criminal Minds marathon on our borrowed TV if we could only relax on some seating that wasn't metal. 

Monday I dreamed about how all the kinks in my neck would be gone if only I could sit on a couch and work with the laptop instead of hunch on the floor or the air mattress. 

Monday night we groaned into the air mattress and tried to figure out whether the sheets would work on the new futon, now so near to us! Sweet anticipation! 

And here it is early Tuesday afternoon and the apartment is finally starting to look halfway furnished. The futon nicely simulates a real couch when it's up. It's soooo soft and cushy, I might have to take a nap on it before I can get to work. Also, the salesman at Levitz told us to go back in and check whether the price had gone down, so we could maybe get a refund as big as $100. So what could possibly be wrong? Sorry, Mom, the only color available was chocolate brown. I guess beggars can't be choosers.