So now that I'm a very accomplished and serious blogger (yeah right, I bought "Blogging for Dummies" yesterday), I need a place to get down to business.
I've been eyeing the white Parsons desk ever since it has graced the glossy pages of Domino (R.I.P.). I didn't know if it was necessarily my "style", but I've been eyeing it long enough that it deserves a shot in my bedroom corner.
Parsons Desk - West Elm
Now that I'm semi-committed to a desk, there's only one thing standing in my way:
Such an eyesore and such a waste of space. Watson's quite the sleeper but I don't know if I could trust him wandering about my bedroom when I'm not home. Let's not forget that this is the wretched beast who did ungodly things to my patent Ferragamo flats and did absolutely unspeakable things to my new sofa during a thunderstorm last year. If I manage to start putting up my shoes (and clothes for that matter) in the closet where they belong, I might consider testing the waters. Can he really be trusted? I mean REALLY? His foul kennel is really getting in the way of my bedroom nirvana and I've just about had it.
For now, I think my relationship with the Parson will still be that of an affair. When I'm feeling really lonely, I wander over to West Elm in Highland Village and pay a visit. When I've just gotten my fill of opening the drawers and pretending to read the measurements for the hundredth time, I say my goodbyes and promise it that it will come home with me someday. I explain that there's a man at home that's forbidding us to be together, but Parson doesn't seem to understand. Sigh. Hopefully someday the two loves of my life will learn to live in harmony, together in my bedroom. Until that day, I will keep kenneling my untrustworthy canine and paying visits to Parson as soon as I can.