Procrastination

For the first 15 years of my life, I have a vivid image in my head of the pink desk that resided in my sister's bedroom. She and my mom painted the top of it pink and wrapped delicate white fabric around the bottom half, concealing the unpainted parts. She received this desk from my grandma, who had it at her home in my aunt's bedroom, with the matching dresser and nightstand. When my sister got married and moved out, I claimed the desk, leaving the top half pink and removing the fabric. The desk followed me to Livermore when I got married, still half pink, and then moved with us to our current location. At that time, I put it in the garage because I had plans of re-finishing it and using it in our spare bedroom as the computer desk.

Time swiftly passed and nothing had been done to the desk. Then I got pregnant and used the excuse of not wanting to sand the 40+ year old finish off and risk getting sick or harming the baby with whatever dust I created. The poor desk sat, neglected, with spiderwebs covering most of its insides for almost 2 years before I finally decided to get to work.

I went to Home Depot, bought the supplies I needed, and started sanding away the dated finish and pink paint. Nap time was golden for me, as this was my hour that I had to work, work work. After several hours of sanding, several coats of primer, and three coats of paint, plus new handles, I ended up with the desk that my mind had been picturing for 16 years.

Since Doodlebug is utilizing the spare bedroom, I rearranged our bedroom so we could put the desk in there. So far, so good. And the cherry on top is that I don't have to 1) sit on the floor in the spare bedroom to use the computer anymore and 2) I can use the computer anytime I want because I don't have to worry about a sleeping baby waking up from the noise I make.

And do you know what would make the deal even sweeter? This darling chair from IKEA. Adding it to my Christmas list as.we.speak.