I have poorly designed closets. An interior designed in 1966 convinced my grandmother that she should put in closets with sliding hooks for hangers instead of a bar, but the hooks can’t hold more than three hangers each and there just aren’t enough of them. There are shelves and drawers, but instead of being useful, they take up a lot of space and don’t hold much. And so, I’m always a little short on clothing store space (okay, I admit that this might also have something to do with my thrift store habit) and with my spring clothes making their seasonal debut, I’ve got clothes sprouting from every surface in my bedroom. Something must be done.
Yesterday I was talking to my mom on the phone (at the very least, a daily occurance) and I mentioned that I needed another bureau. Her helpful suggestion was that I should get rid of some clothes. Thanks Ma.
But, with that phone call, I had announced to the universe that I was in the market for a new item of furniture, and today the universe came through. I was in East Falls at Shay and Erin’s annual Spring Ahead/Spring has Sprung brunch and a group of us were walking over to McMichael Park for the game of kickball that follows the food festivities. There, in someone’s trash, was a white painted bureau. We walk past it, and I take another look and I mention to Ingrid that I had just been talking to my mom about getting a new bureau. I look again, and Carol (Annelise’s girlfriend) says, “Of course you’re supposed to take it, when else will you have five other people standing here to help you move it?” So I run the block back to my car (thanking the Universe yet again for sending me my beloved Subaru station wagon), park on Henry Ave. facing the wrong direction and two minutes later I’m the proud owner of a new, free bureau.
I’ve been in a state of genuine universal connectedness lately. I’ve been buzzed on the beauty and joy of spring. And I’ve manifested a bureau. Not bad, if you ask me.