Oh yes. It happened. The culmination of my life’s dreams concluded this weekend and I finally, finally have white floors. To say my excitement is ineffable would be accurate. They’ve officially been installed since Sunday at 5pm and I haven’t left the room since, so consumed have I been with staring at them lovingly and letting out little gasps of delight whenever the light hits them in a certain way. They are perfect, everything I hoped having white floors would be and more. Even the fact that they get so dirty so quickly has not put a damper on my joy. We still have to caulk along the new floor mouldings and the door frames, apply another coat or two of spackle to the sheetrock, and then paint the whole room, but it’s all coming together so perfectly.
There were some low points to the weekend as well, such as going to AC Moore to pick up my LIMITED EDITION Keane screenprint I dropped off a few weeks ago to be custom framed to the tune of $80 only to find out they somehow RUINED IT with some giant black pencil mark along the bottom. My heart sank but they swear they can fix it. Dejectedly, I got back in the car and drove down the street to IKEA, only to find out that the dresser I’d designed the room around wasn’t available despite the online stock status saying there were 9 in the store. It would be safe to assume I actually cried out of frustration at this point; back-to-back disappointments are not my strong suit. After hounding an attitude-filled, unhelpful salesperson, we were told they were missing 5 of them (HOW DO YOU LOSE 5 DRESSERS?), and the remaining 4 were up too high on the shelf to be reached without bringing out the forklift, only they aren’t allowed to bring out the forklift during store hours so if we came back at 7pm when they closed someone would make sure to grab one for us if we waited in the abandoned lobby. Um, no? I’m not going to fight to give you $250. Give me my mothereffing dresser.
So this morning I’m waiting on a call from the frame department manager about my ruined Keane poster, and pretending like I didn’t have my heart set on that dresser. I’m hoping it’s just a matter of using the right eraser and of heading back to IKEA with a better outcome next time. Fingers crossed.
In the meantime, at least I have white floors.