"I have a hundred bucks, a couple of tacos, and two sticks of gum, let's go!", says the husband.  When I finished laughing at the absurdity of that, (and absently wondered where the penguin was) we headed over the river and through the slums to 19th street to check out a furniture consignment gallery.  I'll get this out of the way right now, I think most consignment places charge too much.  I get that when you have a middleman, the prices are higher, but seriously, when you can buy it new for that price, you're charging too much.
Now that my rant is over, they had some nice things.  Some priced correctly.  Some not even close.  They did however have something we want.  And, it's priced in our budget.  Not only does it fulfill the want of a bar, but it has an absolutely adorable side table.
I already have coffee flavored dreams of that little table with a lamp on it.  The three little drawers have books in them, and a few coasters.  If I catch anyone putting their sweaty glasses down on my not yet existant table, there will be trouble.  Of course, I still need a chair to sit next to that cute little table.  I'm hoping for something I can curl up in.  Something I can let myself sink into, maybe even fall asleep in, but only if it goes with the table.

Don't judge him, he's just dirty

Did I mention we didn't actually buy the furniture?  Yeah, we did the whole, let's think about it.  It's still at the consignment place.  At least until tomorrow.  Then I'll go adopt my little table and bring him home, where he belongs.