It’s confession time on the internets… I have a problem.
In our house, we refer to it as the “P” problem – as if it is too powerful to be named… like Lord Voldemort or the porcupine-like creatures from “The Village” (did anyone but me actually see that? I still have faith that M. Night Shyamalan will return to his glory days!).
This particular problem manifests itself in every room of our house. And I know that I’m the one responsible. But I can’t help myself. It’s a compulsion… an addiction… a insatiable desire!
What is a modern-adult to do? Well, first I will blame my parents. My mom has this problem too, and whether it was nature or nurture, I know she is partly culpable for my issue.
Second, I will no longer be afraid to name it. We cannot fight what we do not know… So, in front of the whole world-wide-web, I will announce my shame and unveil this obsession. Ready?
I love love love PILLOWS! I love them on chairs, on beds, and on couches. I would have them on the toilets if I could. I think they are so pretty and soft and cuddly. They instantly make a room homey and inviting. They add color, style and creativity in one fell-swoop. I. LOVE. PILLOWS.
As you if you needed proof, I will now present some evidence.
When you walk into our bedroom:
Our guest bedroom:
Our Living Room (this is a picture of our old furniture, we just got a new couch last week):
Our New Living Room set-up (Notice how HUGE the new couch is compared to our old one? And I’m using the same amount of pillows. That just doesn’t seem right, does it? I REALLY want to by a couple more to fill it out a bit, but I’m trying to be good…)
(Not enough) PILLOWS!
And, Westi’s bed (yes. I know. This one does seem a little excessive…):
Now, you may have noticed, that this “infestation” has moved on to the Bustache. As an extension of our home, I felt it necessary to deck him out.
You have to admit. These pillows do make Bustache look pretty snazzy and feel super cozy. But, they do take up some precious space in a not-so-big place. I’m not sure how many more we can fit in there. But Steve is sure. He says, “None.”
In fact, when I was out shopping the other day, and I texted Steve that I was looking at some really cute pillows, he sent me this:
Hmmm… I guess I’ve reached Steve’s (which translates to my) limit. No more pillows.
Maybe just a couple for the new couch… :-(D
What about you? Any ridiculous obsessions you’d like to admit to and get off your chest?