Ottomania!

I've been spending a lot of time thinking about ottomans. A ridiculous amount of time, actually, given the number of other things I truly should focus my thoughts on. I find, though, that when the world outside gets scary (and scary is a truly relative term these days) I turn to online shopping for things I don't really need. Actually, it's more like online browsing; I rarely purchase. I spend hours searching for, oh, erasable colored gel pens or standing desks or all-natural curly-hair gel or the perfect black sweater. (Yes, these are things I've fixated on over this winter; I still haven't clicked "buy" nor settled on any of them.) This week, it's ottomans.

By the way, my girl Brené Brown would call this behavior numbing. I'm okay with that. Because online browsing is way less detrimental (so far) than chain smoking, which is what I'd really like to do when the world is scary. It's a way to escape, to daydream, to focus on things that don't actually matter. It's a way to feel in control of something when I feel other areas of my life are so far outside my control. So far I'm not hoarding or driving up our debt; in fact, just the opposite...I'm emptying our attic and paying down our debt. (Maybe topics for another Slice?)

Anyway, our current ottoman, a remnant of a long-gone overstuffed chair and sofa set, leaves strips of brown pleather all over the house. It's made of what they call bonded leather; we now know this is code for cheap crappy plasticky stuff that cracks and peels and makes a mess all over your home within two years. Yet it's the perfect height and width for the kids to sit on when they play video games. It's the perfect surface to stack my New Yorkers on (they come every week! who can keep up with that?) to remind me of all the things I'm not reading but might want to someday while Honey watches sportsball. And it's just right for Sallycat to perch on when she wants to be part of the family but not quite close enough to anyone to be touched. So even though the dumb ottoman looks like it's been through a shredder, and even though I have to pick up 100 little scraps of fake leather every day, it's still the centerpiece of our living room. It needs to be replaced.

Which brings me to my current ottomania! Have you seen all the options out there? Round, square, rectangular, oval. With legs, without legs. Storage or solid. Benchlike or pouf. And the colors! So many colors. I've narrowed my search, at least, to a storage ottoman, wither square or rectangle (although I really love those poufs...they're just not practical for this giant, wrestling, eating-in-the-living-room family). And I've narrowed it even further to just three choices: light tan rectangle, aqua rectangle with legs, or orange-patterned square.

This is progress, right? It's only taken me two weeks to get to this point. And it'll likely take another two weeks to hit "buy," despite the 10% coupon in my inbox and the free shipping offer. You know why? Because purchasing a new ottoman means committing to this space. And purchasing an aqua or orange ottoman could lead to new area rug, curtains, and even wall art. This is too much.

We rent this house. And even though we've lived here for three-plus years, it still feels temporary. We have boxes in the attic still unpacked, waiting for our Forever Home. Sure, we call this one home -- as in "let's go home now" or "call me when you get home" or even "I can't wait to go home" -- but it's still house in my heart. I've had a hard time selecting curtains and stuff to put on the wall; those feel like big commitment. As does new furniture...even something as silly as an ottoman.

Interestingly, I don't see us moving from this space for a while. I don't really even want to move from this space for a while. It's perfectly situated to the elementary school and the center of town, and it's  within walking distance to everything we need. It's small but cozy. The boys have their own rooms, and Happy has a drumset in the basement -- he even has special dispensation from the guys who rent the back apartment to practice whenever he wants. The kitchen is gigantic and full of fancy appliances. And we have landlords who fix things when they break. Even when the basement was filling with water last month, I didn't panic -- I just called Mike! These are all reasons to stay, to continue calling it home. (I don't love the coin-op laundry situation, but we manage.)

So I should probably just buy an ottoman.


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I'm participating in the Slice of Life writing challenge this month, sharing a small piece of each day, in an attempt to restrengthen my writing muscles. Read more about the challenge here and read other Slicers' stories by following #SOL18 on social media.