Three years ago, before I’d moved to Belgium, I bought two white couches for my future Gent living room.  Some friends thought I was crazy.  “They’ll get dirty!”

Oh, well.  I’d cope with the cleaning.  I knew the white would be brilliant with my red walls.

I can now report that stains are alive and well on the fabric.  I found the manufacturer’s instructions.  Wash at 40° Celsius (or 30° if I was concerned about longevity).  I chose 30°.

Vanish is a cool product for stains.  I rubbed the liquid version into the stains and put the powder into the washing machine container.  The results were so-so.  Maybe I waited too long to freshen things up.

In the laundromat, I created two piles of cleanliness: back cushion covers and seat cushion covers.  Two days later, I decided it was time to re-attach.  Only one problem – I had five seat cushions and four covers!

Exhaustive research has demonstrated that someone in the laundromat stole one of the cushion covers.  (Sigh) 

Don’t worry, though.  I’ll keep trusting in the goodness of people.  Naïve?  Yeah, that sounds like me.

I thought it would be a simple matter to buy a replacement cover.  “Think on, Bruce, ’cause it twern’t so.”

The couch manufacturer appears to have gone out of business.  IKEA doesn’t sell the replacement cushion I need.  And no one else seems to either.

I thought my best move was to talk to IKEA Customer Service and get their advice.

The result?  I phoned three times and was on hold for about two hours total.  None of the three French reps who came online could speak English.  There was no English option.  (Sigh again)

***

My mind created a tsunami of a disaster.  “Poor me!” was seeping from my pores.  And I had a position, as in “a person’s point of view or attitude towards something”.  I had to have the cushion cover.  My couch cushions had to be uniform.  My couches had to be as perfect as possible.

So much for meditative spaciousness.  And for a deep connection with people.

How easily I forget

***

Eventually (such as two hours later) my body let go.  Of phoning IKEA again.  Of needing to find the elusive cover.  Of the angst.

I went on Amazon, bought a cheap white seat cushion cover in the size I needed … and smiled.  The unbidden upturn of the mouth is a sign for me … All is well.

I lost a few hours of my life yesterday

But there are many hours left to live