I'm mentally nesting. That's right, you heard me correctly. No, no. I'm not pregnant. Definitely not. I am however, going through a phase where the average home appliance makes me giddy with excitement. Blenders, silverware, rugs, you name it. I'm dying for a home.
Here's how I figure it. At this age, my mother, grandmothers, great grandmothers, etc. were all already married and starting to run their own households. So my recent obsession with homeware is clearly just genetics. It's time for me to be a person! A real person who has her own space. I don't care if my own space is 400 square feet. I don't need a lot of it, I just need some.
The other day I was watching my aunt do some rug hooking (don't ask me to explain it) and I had a sudden, uncontrollable urge to make coasters. For my home. Which does not exist. A week before that, I drifted off into daydreams about picking out place settings. In my home. Which does not exist. And yesterday, I couldn't help but google search dinner party ideas, of which I will host many...in my home. Which does not exist. Am I painting you a pretty picture? As Will Ferrell famously said, "I feel like I'm taking crazy pills!"
But before you judge me too much for this, let me just ask you. When's the last time you thought about your future? Probably, like, this morning. Everyone thinks about the future. It's impossible not to. Now most people think about it in terms of school, jobs and family. I just happen to be in interior decorating mode. So cut me some slack, alright? And if you really love me, you'll buy me something from Pier 1.
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