I don’t like shopping. Whether it be food, furniture, clothing or electronics, the whole process bores me to tears. Internt shopping – it was made for folks like me.
So of course, nothing annoys me more than actually having to go inspect something in person. This is part of why my wardrobe post-child is so small; I find having to try jeans on for fit a terrible imposition, so I instead do my best to get by in two pairs. and while that might be a factor in my momentarily-occurring shopping trip, it’s a different sort of butt fit to check out. That is to say, we’re buying our first ‘real’ couch. I’m not super-duper bothered, ’cause I rarely use the couch; I’m happier at my desk, which is right behind the couch. Bet I guess the husband remembers a day where I would come sit on the couch before the frame bent, and hopes I’ll join him? Ah well… maybe I will like it and consider it all worthwhile… but for now, grumble grumble and whatnot. 🙂