Yo La Tejo

One of these things doesn't belong here. Come on, can you tell which one?

I've been MIA so long, y'all must have thought I'd gone off my rocker. Celebrating my one-year blogiversary in July, having a big old yarn-giving contest...I was so excited, I tooted horns, did backwards somersaults, set sparklers alight, and then....nada, for a month and a half, except for the one post about my friends, which didn't even have any knitting in it.

(Thanks, by the way, to everyone who offered sweet wishes and kind words about Jennifer and Laura. And thank you for sharing memories of your cherished friends with me, as well.)

Was I quitting on a high note, like Jerry counseled George on Seinfeld? That's it, folks, my work is done, I'm outta here. If I had knit anything memorable recently, maybe I could get away with saying that. [Cranes neck, looks around.] Nope, no knitted magnum opus lying around here.

Well, you may or may not remember that my life got turned upside down and inside out, pretty much for the entire month of August. Moved out of my apartment, drove all the way to California with my girlfriends (road trip! woo hoo! no truckers were harmed, if you must know.) Attended a wedding in New Mexico, and THEN came back to an unpacked apartment, which took much longer than I thought to set to rights.

There were the obvious things to unpack, like kitchen and bathroom stuff, and then the zillion and one doodads and thingamajigs to be weeded out and thrown away...I am worse than a magpie, y'all. Any bright piece of string (and knitters, you know there's lots of those to go around) and it gets tucked into a book/keepsake box/underwear drawer. My new apartment is lovely and spacious, but let's face it--even the roomiest closet has a finite amount of space. Sad, but true.

So after all the weeding out and donating and giving away was done, I finished putting away the sizable amount of stuff that remained, and my apartment was almost there. Almost there.








Jewelry arranged on my bureau drawer, books shelved in a loosely logical order, the re-emergence of my knitting on the futon, beloved posters and plaques hung, my full-size box spring leaning against the wall.

Um, you don't have your box spring leaning against the wall? You don't enjoy sleeping on the floor and waking up with a bad back for the first time in your lives? Yah, didn't think so. Neither do I.

Turns out, my full size box spring does not fit up the narrow back stairs that leads to my loft bedroom. My friend, who was the previous tenant, warned me of this and offered to give me her split box spring, which comes in two pieces. I didn't take it, because this was back in May and I didn't have anywhere to store it for three months. And yes, I've heard of Public Storage, but royal fool that I am, I figured I'd find a way to get another.

So, two weeks ago, after some calling around, I ordered a split full size box spring from a local, apparently reputable mattress store, and happily awaited my new foundation. At night, I would drop all the way to the floor where my mattress rests, and thoughts of luxuriating in a proper bed would lull me to sleep. Last Wednesday, the day the foundation would be delivered, I woke up as excited as if it were Christmas morning.

When the delivery men knocked on my door, I flew to answer it. "We're here to deliver a foundation."

I smiled happily. "Yes! It's in two pieces, right?" "Nooo. It's in one piece. Split box springs don't come in full-size."

"But, but, I ordered a split one! Over the phone! With Greg!" "Oh, yeah, Greg. He's only been there for four months. He doesn't know."

Grrrreeeeaaaat. After he investigated the back stairs, confirming that a full-size box spring would not go up (which should have been obvious, since my old one was leaning forlornly against the living room wall), he suggested a twin size. And burst into laughter. The other guy burst into laughter. We all had a good laugh at my expense, and I'm still not sure why. Single girl like you? You're going to need a bigger mattress! Or maybe, Thirtysomething old fart like you? In a twin bed?

Appealing as this idea was (and I have to say, visions of pink canopies began to float through my head later that day, only half-ironically), I hustled back to the mattress store to get my money back. Sauntering in, I chirped, "Which one of you's Greg?"

A salesman at the desk lifted his head and said, "That's me." Trying to remain polite, I launched into a description of who I was and what my problem was. He said casually, "Oh yeah, the delivery guy called from your apartment." I nodded expectantly. He slowly shook his head, a carefully cultivated blank look on his face. "But they don't sell split box springs in full size."

My jaw dropped. I sputtered. Now, you should know that I am normally an extremely mild-mannered person. I rarely honk at other drivers on the road, and if I have to, I feel guilty for upsetting them. But this guy's comment just made my blood boil.

In a snotty tone of voice, I asked, "Now why would I order a full-size box spring if it weren't going to be a split one? I HAVE a full size mattress and box spring at home. Why would I order something I already had?"

He looked at me like a deer caught in the headlights, and cautiously began to offer other suggestions. Like a mini-foundation, or a foam one. "You. Don't. Understand. It's. Not. Going. To. Fit."

The salesguy behind him, watching this whole time, piped up. "I've been in this business for years, and I've never seen a split foundation in a full size. Don't worry, ma'am, we'll refund your money." Half-snickering, he said, "Yeah, Greg doesn't know. He's only been here four months."

To make a long story a little less long, I got my money back. My friend/previous tenant got back in from out of town and helped me find the mattress store she got her split foundation from. We went there, I told the guy what I needed, he said no problem, and I plunked down my credit card. They're supposed to deliver in the next couple of days. My aching back can't wait.

I also finally ditched the old box spring, setting it outside for the junk man to carry away. So my apartment is finally almost ready, almost there. Almost.

Oh, hang on, knitting content! The tank top pictured above is the one I've been working on since time immemorial, the camisole from Last Minute Knitted Gifts, in Jaeger Trinity. I'm on the home stretch with that, and am really really really hoping my next post is an FO post.

posted by Olga @ 1:18 PM