Some little girls dream about their wedding day. Actually a lot of little girls probably do. My best friend Kayla sure did. But when I was a young lass, lacy white dresses and four-tiered cakes were the furthest thing from my mind. Instead, I dreamed about how I would decorate the inside of my future house. The exact robin’s-egg blue of my bathroom walls, the gilt slightly shabby chic wrought bronze framing my over-sized wall mirrors, hardwood floors with a half-dulled finish – sigh…

But above all, the pinnacle of my interior design dreams, was a couch. THE couch. The most beautiful, stately, luxurious couch. A Chesterfield. Those pat tufts make me swoon, the gorgeous buttons draw my eyes, and the curved lines of the arms and back cause my heart to palpitate madly. Unbelievable.

Today, as I walked past one of my favorite furniture stores on Sutter, Leftovers, a carefully curated consignment store, I saw it.

Smack dab, front and center. A Chesterfield perfectly sized for me and M. I haven’t looked at the price tag yet. I’m going to dream one more day. But, tomorrow, I will dare to take a peek. Hopefully it’s still there. If not, I’ll know that it wasn’t meant to be, but oh man. That couch is meant to be mine.

You want to know how I know for sure? Well, yours truly got a pretty substantial raise today. Hell yeah!

xoxo,

Jenn