Even the best laid plans don’t often happen
Published 9:40 am Friday, May 15, 2015
“I think I just need to accept that not everything is going to go according to plan,” I said to Sera after a long weekend of furniture shopping. What started off as a clear vision on Friday night had somehow become muddled by Sunday afternoon as we were preparing to purchase seating for our living room.
In the days leading up to last weekend, my wife and I frequently looked at couches, sectionals, chairs and everything in between to find out what would best fit our needs. Once we decided on a sectional, it was clear that it’d have to be a bit unique to fit in our space. With one measurement being nonnegotiable, we headed to several furniture stores to find the piece that would best suit our living room.
As we began sitting and laying and pretending different pieces were in our own living room, we began to quickly rule out many choices. Too big, too small and not firm enough were all reasons we crossed couches off of the eligibility list. To my surprise, Sera also had a foot test, where she attempted to have her feet touch the ground as she sat on the couches. Often times failing this test was reason enough for us to move on. If my wife can’t touch the ground and she finds herself sinking into the cushy cushions, her only way out relies solely on me being home to save her. While I’m certainly up for tasks of heroism, it’s not practical to get a piece of furniture she can only use when I’m within shouting distance.
After several cities and even more furniture stores, we arrived back at a store with one potential option. The problem? The two sides of the sectional weren’t the exact same, and our vision had the right side and the left side being flipped. Of course this was not possible, so we reached an impasse. Could we buy this and still have a functioning living room? Definitely, but it wouldn’t be aligning with our master plan. Do I even want to spend that much money on something that isn’t exactly what we want?
Knowing the sale continued for a few more days, we left with the make and model intending to think over our options. Exasperated after a long search and no clear results, we re-visited a local furniture store against my better judgement. It was here that my wife fell in love with a piece of furniture that met almost none of our criteria, and I knew, as many husbands before me have known, that the criteria no longer mattered. This would be our new furniture, and now I have to find a way to make it work.
We arrived at home with various measurements of this new sectional, and I quickly began moving our current furniture out of the space to better visualize how I’ll be able to make this giant fit. Old papers were carefully placed where the sectional would go and Post-it notes lined the wall to mark its height. To be honest, it looked like a mess, especially after the dog walked through our imaginary living room a few times. But it was workable. Sera’s dream sectional could become a reality if we completely abandon our original plan and find a new place to put the television (we’re still firming up this new plan).
Maybe it didn’t meet our measurements, and maybe it barely passed Sera’s foot test (if I’m being honest, I think she’s guilty of some mischief by putting it in the “pass” category), but it is comfortable, attractive, the right color and something that will last.
I’ve learned it is sometimes okay to deviate from the plan, even if that means your time previously spent so diligently following it goes to waste. It’s easy to get lost and frustrated in the details of some ideal and lose sight of potential greatness beyond your scope and imagination. Sometimes there is so much more than your plan.
In this instance, it’s just a sectional. It’s just a piece of furniture that we’ll be spending the next several years to sit on and use for an occasional nap. The plan we deviated from in this case wasn’t monumental, but the concept of being open to the deviation is one I think we can all benefit from. As the saying goes, “The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”
Rochester resident Matt Knutson is the communications and events director for United Way of Olmsted County.