So we’ve lived in this house for close to 2.5 years. In many ways it still feels new to me. However, one thing I’ve grown accustomed to is the bare walls and windows. Look, we’ve got blinds. Do we really need something as floofy as curtains?
It turns out we (kind of) do. It’s not a life necessity but if we ever expect people to treat us like adults, at some point we have to pony up and decorate our house.
Apparently, since I have the only ovaries in the house, this is my job. This pains me on many levels. For one, there’s the sexism of it all. I’d be more upset by that but I don’t really think it’s sexism. I think David just doesn’t want to tackle this project and is shirking it off on me.
The thing that troubles me more is this: I don’t want to decorate the house. Sure, I love the way decorated houses look but I hate the process. If I enjoyed it, I’d have started 2.5 years ago. What do you MEAN the color I paint my master bath has to coordinate with the color in my master bedroom which has to complement my bedspread which can’t clash with the room that leads into the master bedroom??? It’s all an intricate puzzle where you have to find the right accent at the right price for the right room at the right time and OH MY GOD PLEASE KILL ME. I just want to buy things I like. And while I realize that they should all match, all the things I like do not necessarily match. But I want the things I like. This is awful, this amount of thinking about something as stupid as shopping.
So, I’ve been working on it. 2014 has been dubbed “the year of the house”. I want a grown up house that works but still looks like me. We (by which I mean I) have hung curtains in various rooms and hung prints throughout much of the house. There’s still much to be done but I’m chipping away at it slowly. By the end of the year, I’ll have a house that looks neither like a dorm room nor a crack den. I am liking the way the changes look for us. But the process still burns my skin like fire.