there is a chair in my bedroom.
and it is a lovely chair.
it is comfortable and cozy.
it’s quite good looking and i wholeheartedly heart it.
except for one thing.
it makes me do bad things.
now, a chair in a bedroom can be a wonderful thing.
it can lovingly aid in your relaxation; it can be a haven for you when you have a newborn to cuddle.
it can be covered in fabric that makes you happy; it can bring glorious color into your room.
it can even be the one place in your house when you feel truly at peace.
my chair does the opposite.
the chair in my room, while easy on the eyes, is like one of those friends from high school that pressures you into doing bad things even though you think you won’t.
it tempts you and you fall into it’s wide-seated, inviting trap.
and then every time you see it, it rubs it all in your face, reminding you of the naughtiness you are participating in. and makes you feel eternally guilty.
every.frickin.time i walk past the chair in my bedroom i drop something on it.
a just-folded pair of shorts. my workout towel. the book i am starting to read. my purse. my phone charger. my files-for-my-new-client-that-i-promise-i-will-put-up-later.
anything and everything is lured into it’s black hole no matter how hard i try to resist its pull.
short of having to send it to the chair pound, i have decided to take measures to help myself. before it gets bad.
(well, actually it got pretty bad – to the point where you could NEVER see the seat.)
there was literally a tipping point.
so i brilliantly came up with a little idea that i truly believe is the answer to all of my chair-dumping problems.
and it is working.
it has been four and a half weeks and i have only had to minimally clean it off twice.
girl scout’s honor.
maybe now my husband will let me keep the chair in my bedroom.