Last year, I spent months trying to master the Crock-Pot.
Never mind the fact that it’s supposed to be the easiest form of cooking in existence, unless you count microwaving as cooking — it was still a challenge for me. I did set a fire.
But lo and behold, I was persistent, and I took the three Crock-Pots I received as wedding gifts as a sign that I could not let a kitchen appliance get the best of me. Now I can safely cook without fire extinguisher in hand, or fear of salmonella poisoning. There was much rejoicing in the Gilliam household.
So I thought that the same persistence would help me out when it came to home decorating. I mean, it couldn’t be any worse. I can honestly say I have never set any homes on fire, although I guess given my Crock-Pot history it really isn’t that far-fetched. Unfortunately, I’m in the throes of home decorating and my recent cooking successes are not giving me much comfort.
Brandon tells me the problem is I lack confidence. For some reason, when it comes to picking out pictures for the living room wall, I feel like it’s a test with right and wrong answers. The first time I went to Garden Ridge, I almost broke out in hives. It was like the baby store all over again — so much stuff, and not one clue how to sort through it. Those are the times when I realize that it must be nice to be able to think like a guy. Brandon does not get overwhelmed at the home store, mainly because he doesn’t put half as much thought into it as I do. After I dilly-dally in the decision-making long enough, he finally just picks something for us. He seems so confident, I just go with it. Who am I to argue if he can find a rug for the living room in 15 minutes? Left up to me, I would wander up and down the same two aisles for an hour, chewing my lip, and still not make one decision.
Why, oh why, do I think so much?
Home decorating is one of those things everyone seems to know how to do but me. I remember my junior year of college, it seemed like all the girls in my dorm were learning how to crochet. I have no idea why that particular skill became popular in 2005, but I took it upon myself to learn, and eventually my roommate and I were designing hats, scarves and afghans. I wish home decorating were like crocheting, and I could just sit down with the yarn and the hooks and figure it out.
Since Brandon doesn’t seem to suffer from the over-thinking disease, I have decided that I’m going to make him become our home decorator. For people who saw his old apartment, that might seem like a questionable decision. But at least when I put him in charge of it, things get done. If I say, “We need new lamps,” then he can just pick out lamps and be done. It’s simple, and I’m all about simple.
I did manage to pick out a wreath for the front door last weekend, a monumental task as far as I am concerned. There are so many different sizes and styles. But I just picked one before I had time to second guess myself. It seems to be working out so far. I don’t think any of the neighbors have complained. If you happen to be my neighbor, feel free to compliment me on my lovely wreath. No, seriously.
I think that may be my last foray into the decorating world for awhile. That wreath took a lot out of me. Now I think it’s time for Brandon to pick out another rug.