Heartbreaker.

Heartbreaker? What, do I not realise this is a post about furniture?

Of course I realise. Silly.

I'm talking about this guy.

Do you see him there? Sitting there on the left as if he just doesn't care that I love him more than just about any other piece of furniture I've ever owned? He doesn't care. He's a credenza. Obviously.

For the longest time, the television sat on a faux bois-y, melamine-y record cabinet I found in Stanthorpe. Apparently it is important for film students to have decent televisions or something, so I can't pretend we don't have one. Whatever. I really liked the cabinet when I found it, but the television was just too big or something was too something and it kind of had to go.

Record cabinet of old, seen here in it's natural habitat.

I wanted something a bit bigger. A bit more angular. A bit more teak? Maybe also a second job to pay for it? I mean, mid-century modern credenzas aren't exactly wallflowers right now, are they? Unfortunately the world has changed since I got this sideboard for nineteen dollars off eBay.

Yes, that amazing chevron blanket is everywhere in my house. It's magic.

Whatever, furniture. Really. Playing hard-to-get is only going to make me want you more. I'd almost given it up as a bad job. I would look at credenzas in shops. I'd dream, I'd rapturously caress the beautiful finishes. I'd walk away, steely in my resolve not to have to live on bread and water for three months.

... Then last Saturday happened. Saturday? Sunday? What does it matter? In my head it pretty much requires a holiday devoted to it because it was the day I found the perfect credenza. The perfect credenza that wasn't thousands of dollars. It wasn't even one thousand dollars. It was on sale for three hundred and ninety dollars. I know, I know. One of my favourite ladies and I went to an antique centre on the southside and there were about a million credenzas just lolling about, teasing me. Walking past a crowded stall, we spotted this.

Just sitting there under some other, inferior, credenza. Ignore the colour variation, would you? It's difficult to take a decent photo when you are shaking with what can only be described as total glee. Especially when you notice this:

Oh, okay. Sure.

After dithering for about a million years, I left empty handed. But how did it get into your house, you almost misser of opportunities? I hear you say.

I came to my senses late on Tuesday night. A classic sit-up-in-bed-and-frantically-email-the-dealer-twice moment. Of course, it was ten pm and no one cares about frantic credenza crushes at ten pm except me. I called the next day. The very second that the store opened. I called and bought it over the phone like a fancy rich lady (fact: I am not a fancy rich lady). I'm sure the staff deal with frenzied furniture mind-changers every day. I got it delivered on Thursday (thanks to The Van That Can who are The Best) and now it is in my living room, being all cheeky and perfect.

I am very happy and now need to find a plant for the living room that isn't a palm tree. I went to the nursery and grabbed a few cacti, which are great. But I want more. Specifically, I want a plant with big leaves that is kind of stalky still so not bulky and really I want a philodendron or a monstera or maybe even a zanzibar gem and did you think I actually thought to articulate the names to the staff or did I just talk about 'big leaves with stems'. You know I just talked about big leaves and stems.

I want a bowl for the cacti, too. I'm not really a glass bowl kind of lady, though, what with the humidity and the mould all up in this city. Ceramic? Hand glazed? Sleek? Too many things to think about, all thanks to the new credenza.

Credenza.