So here's a picture of my beloved sofa. It was hard to get a picture that reflects its true colour, which is a soft (but not dull) grey. I still need to find some pillows for it, but haven't decided what color I want to go with yet.
When I first saw this sofa I fell in love with it immediately and bought it on the spot. I was so excited, in fact, that I didn't even think about measuring it --- and it's HUGE ---L89 x D39 x H36.
I didn't think about measuring it, until I called a friend to tell him about the purchase I'd just made, and he uttered those three very sensible, but unwelcome, words --- "Will it fit?"
"I don't know," I answered. My voice filled with panic, as I thought about my over-sized sofa and average-sized doorway. Of course it will fit I thought to myself. It has to. I borrowed a tape measure from someone in the store, measured the sofa, went home and measured my door frame. It was clearly too small.
But "denial ain't just a river in Egypt" my friends, it runs deep up here in my neck of the woods. I pushed all thoughts of defeat from my mind (a tool I find usually works quite well for me) and marched back to the store. "It's fine. It's going to fit." The small group of shoppers and employees I had been consulting with seemed happy to hear this. The movers, however, did not, as it was one of the biggest snowstorms of the winter.
Despite their better judgement, with a little cajoling, they arrived within minutes, and off we went. As they started to haul my incredibly heavy (but gorgeous) sofa out of the back of the truck, those nagging words were once again repeated, "You're sure it's going to fit, right?"
I responded without lying, "Yeah, I think so." I did think so, even though it went against all logic. My motto has always been, "Where there's a will there's a way." And trust me, for me, this is not just some cheesy cliché. When I have my mind set on something, you do not want to be on the wrong end of it!
Well, as you can see --- it did fit. However, this story has a very sad and unexpected (at least to me) twist. After close to an hour of trying it this way and that way ... we ended up having to saw the back legs off (the front ones twist out).
I bet by this point in the story, you're actually feeling quite attached to my sofa, as was I, when my neighbor, whom I like very much, went into his apartment and got his saw. (As an aside, I was so upset I wasn't even concerned that my neighbor, who works in an office, has a hacksaw in the entrance of his apartment).
And I realize that as far as real problems go, there are way worse ones I could have had, but as I watched the first leg fall to the ground, I burst into tears. In front of three grown men, no less.
But even after all that, I am supremely happy with my purchase! It's traditional and classy, in a color that goes with almost everything, and it's big enough to sleep on (which I will never do) but is convenient for friends visiting from out of town.
The original plan was to reattach the legs but one split down the middle, as we had first tried to remove it with the back end of a hammer (I'm cringing just thinking of it). So for now, my sofa, who I often greet in the mornings with a, "Hi Gorgeous," is propped up on phone books. Not exactly ideal, but like I said, where there's a will there's a way!
Forever,
Amber
