When I moved from North Carolina, I left two big things behind: a big ol’ tube TV that weighs at least 80 lbs, and a hand-me-down futon. The TV was just too enormous and unwieldy for me to want to move it again, so I gifted it to my Grad School Spouse, Joann. Just getting it from my apartment into hers a block away was enough of an ordeal for me to feel pretty good about that decision. The futon was gifted to me by my dear friends and Role Models for a Good Life, David and Micky Simmons, in 2006ish when they moved to Wisconsin. The gift of free furniture was but one of the amazing things that those folks have given me over the years, and I loved that futon, in despite its creaking wooden frame, and its aged and saggy mattress. But when it came time to move again, I decided to pay that futon forward to some other close friends in the area who would give it a good home.
As a result of these acts of laziness and altruism, Jason and I arrived here in PA without a TV or any kind of living room seating or entertainment. So for months we have been using the very Undergrad Chic solution of two camp chairs on one wall, and my laptop sitting atop the lifeless DVD player on the other.
Because we are living on a pretty tight budget around here (not quite Ramen Every Meal, but still thinking twice about filling up the gas tank without checking the bank balance), we decided to wait awhile before buying a new couch. We shopped around, looked for deals, considered our options, and settled on a nice little number from Ikea. The Tidafors, despite its somewhat uninspiring name, is comfy and cushy and a little bit stylish at a price that we could deal with, as long as we got the cheapest fabric option.
So, a couple weeks ago, Jason and I finally transitioned from Couch Shopping to Couch Buying. He relentlessly walked on through the labyrinth of the Conoshohocken Ikea, as I had a series of small panic attacks and thought of about a thousand reasons why spending this amount of money on a single item for our home would leave us destitute and helpless living under a bridge fending off other penniless vagrants with sharpened sticks in an effort to defend our nice new couch. He prevailed, of course, being at times the only rational one in this marriage.
A day later, our living room transitioned from this:
We are still watching Netflix reruns on my laptop, but now we can do it while reclining comfortably on our new couch. Reaching adulthood, one piece of furniture at a time.