Somebody stop me. Or hand me a large bag of cash.

It seems I have become somewhat of a craigslist junkie.

It all started a few weeks ago, when upon discussing what we wanted to do about a new bookcase, we bought a piano. It makes sense. Trust me.

OK fine, I’ll speed through the story:

• We had a college-era plywood and cinder block bookcase against our entryway wall.


• Ethan’s becoming mobile, so I wanted to get something more substantial to avoid any tragedies involving curious infants and toppled shelves.


• Noah wanted me to have a piano. Because I like to play. But really because he secretly wants to start a band, and this is the first step toward taking our act on the road. Apparently he wasn't thrilled at the thought of me shaking a tambourine and dancing.


• The only place to put a piano is that same wall, so we couldn’t do anything major with bookcases until we had a piano.


• We as-close-as-we-get-to-impulsively bought a great piano for cheap on craigslist.

On the way to buy the piano:

Noah: So, I guess you’ll try it out or something?
Erin: I don’t really know how to play anything. I should have worn a slinky dress so I could sit on the piano and belt out “Give my regards to Broadway.”

I’ve also recently become obsessed—literally, my heart flutters and I border on hyperventilation when thinking about it—with home decor and being crafty. I have so many ideas, and I want to do them all RIGHT NOW. It’s like I’m nesting, only 8 months too late.

I’m like a really irresponsible bird that didn’t expect to pop out an egg and all she had was two twigs and a few strands of measly twine and now she’s racing around frantically trying to find a four-foot-tall, slender red wicker hutch to cover up that telephone cord just dangling there in the kitchen because WHO PUTS THE PHONE JACK THREE FEET HIGHER THAN THE OUTLET?

Luckily for me, there are two enormous antiques dealers just up the road from my work. Unluckily for me, they sell actual antique furniture, so none of it was cheap. But there were some awesome finds—such as carved wooden giraffes and a funky glass owl. And even some philosophical ones—such as the ceramic owl sitting on a wooden stump that has the words “Be Wise. Save.” carved into it. So I heeded the warning and I didn’t buy the glass owl or the carved giraffes. (Even though they were really not expensive at all. But I promised Noah I wouldn’t buy anything else for the rest of the month. A promise that I now regret making, especially after finding the perfect black trench coat for under $40 at Forever 21. And the perfect tan corduroy trench coat for under $40 at Target.)

Here’s the rub: I found the absolute exact piece of furniture I pictured to solve the kitchen phone issue on craigslist. A white, wicker, right about four-feet-tall drawer/hutch getup for a mere fifty beans. But I was too late. Someone else got to it first. I wish I could describe the heartache I feel over this. It’s something akin to what that guy who got passed in the last quarter mile at the Olympic marathon to be bumped from the podium must have felt. So excruciatingly close to fulfillment of dreams, and there it is dangling in front of you like a carrot that some other horse chomps on as you’re about to touch its sweet earthy goodness to your lips. How’s that for mixing metaphors?

What can I say; I can't think straight. I need to be weaned from This Young House, Design Sponge, and Frugal Fashionista. Better yet, I need someone to forgive my medical bills and student loans. Who knew staying alive and getting smart would be so expensive.