Have you ever lain awake at night for two solid weeks before the scary moment of truth arrives?
The moment when installers are hauling in new carpet for which you paid thousands of dollars?
I feel your pain.
After agonizing debate, I had selected “Dirt Zenith” over “Flaky Rust.” Would the little square’s color, multiplied by dozens of square feet, make my carpet fantasies the past 12 years come true?
Before they laid an inch, I had to leave for a dental appointment. Perhaps you don’t ponder optimistic thoughts while someone digs and drills in your mouth, either. I sank lower and lower in the dental chair.
Returning, I wanted to stay in the garage forever. Would Dirt Zenith clash with the costly Exalted Smudge paint applied earlier to the walls?
Would Flaky Rust have suited it better?
Or should I have chosen Swamp Slime instead?
I crept through the back door. Toward the family room.
Would the stain-hiding texture espoused by the enthusiastic salesman stand out as if in neon? Had I spent a fortune to carpet our house to resemble a 1980s Marriott breakfast room?
Finally, I looked.
Wow.
Dirt Zenith looked darker than expected. Not enough brown? I opened blinds. Sunbeams gleefully pounced on my choice. Ack! Too much gray!
Hubby looked at me. “Don’t. Even. Go. There.”
We moved the furniture back. Brown returned to the carpet, even when pesky sunbeams tried to scare it off. I breathed again.
However, something didn’t fit my fantasy.
The furniture.
How could these tired, outdated sofas and chairs fit anyone’s dream come true?
But will little cloth swatches prove sufficient to fulfill my furniture fantasy?
Hubby doesn’t want to find out.
Your Extraordinary Ordinary: What home ownership venture cost you major cash — and sleep?
