I’m, like, proper grown up now. For my last birthday I received from my partner a toolbox and a barbell. Life has become about the practical. My dad also saw fit to give me a book on raising calm children, so I spent the weekend trying to train my baby like that dog in Vendetta (if you hadn’t read this short story in Matric, you’re too young to be interacting with me).
But part of being grown up means that sometimes I have grand ideas to do DIYish things. The always fail, but I get to enjoy the chaos that is living in my DIY filth for a good while.
The last grand idea I got was to create some sort of underbed storage for all the wonderful DIY crap I’m starting to hoard. And of course to create new DIY mess. So I did a search for inspiration. This is what Google images turned up to my innocent request:
Now this is the kind of Pinterest porn I’m looking for. Lofty (haha, sorry) inspiration that is so entirely unachievable that it will remain in dream-phase forever and I will enjoy the very potential that it possesses, with no likelihood of inducing guilt because it’s really not within any realm of possibility. But it looks nice, right? I will one day have a Pinterest-worthy bedroom, complete with that pretty filter they use to take the pictures. Also, I will never be messy and leave my shoes on the floor ever again. Because I will have a bedroom that looks like this and which I made myself. I am god.
Then, Images spewed out this:
What? I’m here to dream, Google! Not to see how my room would look if I put my two bookshelves on the floor and cleaned my sheets once in a while. God damnit. Way to aim low. Not even a filter. Where is the casually-placed scatter cushion? Where is the chalkboard paint? Why are there no vases covered in old sweaters?! This is severely disappointing.
But wait, I see something even more enticing.
I love this idea, mostly because it will add the element of danger I so cherish each time I go to bed at night. Ah, that’s so comfor-GAAAA, it’s all crashing down on me! I wish I hadn’t used that one cubicle to store my collection of rusty butterfly knives. I wish I had made better choices in life.
Finally, we get a little more Pinterest-worthy:
This offended me just because the wooden pallet craze should not be taken into the bedroom. I appreciate hipster decor as much as I appreciate the splinters I am likely to get in my feet, but also: in my room this will really just look like I chose to sleep in a factory. Thanks, but no thanks, Google.
Not all the images were what I expected:
Mwahahahha! Man slave laughs nervously while well-dressed overlords guffaw and watch him make a tiny cage for him to sleep in. I must bookmark this page for future reading so that I too can get my own red-shirt to do the dangerous work with chicken wire and baby drills.
But some were pure genius:
I rather liked this one, but I fear it will only encourage me to store my late night cheese snacks in there.
It took a little turn for the startling, at this point:
This wasn’t such a bad idea – WHAT IS WRONG WITH THAT PERSON’S FEET?
WAIT: What the hell is going on with her arms? Her ARMS. She is an oval-footed person of gargantuan width and teeny-tiny opposite-arms. Freak-bed upsets me so much I almost stop searching. But I endure. I endure.
*Sigh* Some prettiness again. And no mutants in sight:
Hahaha, evil child knows how to place Lego just where it will hurt the most.
But disappointment is just around the corner:
Now we’re not even trying anymore.
A few horrors await:
WHAT? No. I will never feel safe in a stranger’s bedroom again.
And finally, reality rears its ugly head:
Sadly, this is where I stopped. Because that, friends, is the kind of thing that so beautifully fits into my skills set that I had to close the page for fear of actually making one like this. Good god.
My dreams are now crushed, I will no longer look for inspiration online. Or, at least not for this week. Somebody save me from my domestic dreams. There are children involved here – do it for the children!