:: Existential Drape Crisis ::
Look what I did to my curtains. Or, since I really don't think it was my fault, look what my curtains did to themselves:
In case you were wondering, there's no flood. My windows are wearing waders because my extremely cheap, machine-wash-cold, dry-low, Target drapes that I've never liked anyway shrank in the wash.
I've washed them before (we've got three cats, people), following their care instructions, and each time I've thought, "I think they're a little bit shorter" but dismissed it as a trick of the eye.
But now I've got proof. HA!
Except, instead of thinking Oh, la-de-da, how funny, and ooh! now I get to go buy new drapes, I am in this weird searching-for-the-meaning-of-life mood that is better suited to daytime television than it is to my personal life. I don't know what it is but suddenly these curtains have taken on monumental proportions in my mind, basically symbolizing my entire worth and, for that matter, my happiness.
My god, I think it's worse than shopping for shoes.
***
P.S. Could all the tan in this picture be any more depressing? No? I didn't think so.
2 comments:
Sorry you're having a crisis over drapes. If I was symbolizing my life in shrunken curtains, I probably wouldn't replace them, because they'd be an imperfect fit and kind of quirky, which is how I often feel about myself.
Don't see the curtains as something to make you unhappy. See them as proof that perfection isn't necessary.
Oh, I'm replacing them. It's the perfect excuse since I hated them to begin with. Freud might suggest that I washed them this weekend in order to make them shrink, but what does Freud know. The crisis is over what to replace them with. The opportunities are endless. : )
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