the sloppy copy

So I’m sitting here, pondering my last post and contemplating my next one, when I hear a ruckus outside my window.

Maybe it’s because I once lived in an apartment that was almost entirely furnished from (magnificently-decent!) discarded treasures, or I’m just incredibly nosy by nature, but my freaky-keen Dumpster radar perked up at the noise. Sure ‘nough, New Maintenance Guy* and some other work-booted rando are dragging giant wooden things across the parking lot to the Dumpster.

Um, not just any wooden things.

Pallets, y’all.

PALLETS.

For anyone who has spent more than .2 miliseconds on Pinterest, you know that a good 83% of all home-decor/ craft projects involve repurposing a wooden pallet. Personally, I think most of these ideas are cool as hell, but there was always a problem: Where the fuck do I find a wooden pallet? Seriously. The sheer volume of Pallet Crafts on Pinterest would lead one to assume there were some  sort of Wooden Pallet Depository in every town in the USA.

I checked the Yellow Pages. No dice.

And yet, here I am: gazing out my bedroom window, the blank canvas of all my crafty fantasies RIGHT FREAKING THERE. Just taunting me.

Herein lies many, many, many problems:

1. NMG and Rando put the pallet IN the Dumpster. The two of them. I would certainly need help removing it.
1a. Also, it was in the Dumpster. Ew. Icky.

2. It’s huge. Where do these Pinterest People store these things? It takes up the entire Dumpster.
2a. Also, my living room is approximately the size of a Dumpster.

3. Off the top of my head, I cannot remember ANY of the cool Pallet Uses I’ve seen and wanted to try.
3a. Also, I’ve not pinned any of them, because, seriously: WHERE THE HELL WOULD I FIND A WOODEN PALLET?

Except, you know, in my own backyard.

So close, and yet so unattainable.

EDIT: No more than five seconds after I snapped this picture did I hear a trash truck pull up. I guess it was just not meant to be, dear Pallet. 

*Maintenance Guy Who Never Wears Pants no longer works here. When I heard he was leaving I was genuinely disappointed. Sure, I’ll miss the sight of his man-legs peeking out from between work boots and jorts, but really: he was awesome at his job. Like, everything was fixed immediately. I don’t know how he was able to do it all. Amphetamines, maybe.