A Mental Contract

So yesterday, it was officially decided that when I grow up, my home will be an exact replica of an Anthropologie store, with a little Ikea flare.

In actuality, I come up with this idea every time I enter/pass an Anthropologie, but this time was different. Yesterday, when I strolled into that good smelling dress heaven, I secretly signed a mental contract with myself to finally follow through on my previously empty promise. I'm considering just packing up my stuff and moving into an actual store.

The Ikea part, that comes from my inherent fascination with everything Ikea. And Swedish, but that's another story. My brother, Brian, shares my obsession and he and I together, I mean we can spend hours in that not-so-little store. Twelve forks for three dollars! Bedding for practically nothing! And my container fixation is met in that blue and yellow warehouse. What is better? Tell me, anything? No.