I found one that was exactly what I wanted all the way on the top floor and wrote down the reference number, but unfortunately, it seemed the numbers didn’t actually correspond to anything.
I declined to drag the old guy working there four flights up only to be told that the cart I wanted cost $450, so no cart. It’s frustrating trying to buy adult furniture, in part because everything costs so much, but also because I worry about buying anything too nice. Since we don’t know how long we’ll be in this apartment (hopefully the landlord won’t raise the rent too much, but if he does we’re outta here) so it seems silly to buy expensive things that we might have to get rid of when we move, depending on the configuration of the place we move to.

I guess you need a grown up apartment to make grown up furniture work. Since this whole moving thing, I’ve really come to realize that I want to buy an apartment. I want to be able to know that I can buy stuff to fit my space, to paint walls and fix staircases and replace fixtures knowing that I won’t have to put it all back the way it was when I move out.

I know I’m basically the queen of being dragged into adulthood kicking and screaming, and maybe it’s just the Claritin talking, but I’m ready to be an apartment grown-up, with a mortgage and real furniture and all of that. Probably not from the crappy overpriced antique store, but still. Time to start saving for that down payment in earnest. Right after I buy a liquor cabinet.