It was the day that I'd been waiting for. The day each of us had been waiting for, and for me it had finally come. The day should have held hope and excitement like sun and fresh air, but instead the day dawned cold and misty. The men came and began securing my belongings, making sure each items was accounted for, they meant well, but I overheard them talking about my new home, about how I was a face picked out of a "catalog".
How does someone fall in love with a picture in a catalog? That's when I realized my surrogate brothers and sisters had a better chance of going to our dream home than I did. Walking out to the truck was a tricky affair. They were trying to cover me and protect my delicate finish from the mist, but the umbrella wasn't large enough. I was covered vigorously in plastic. Then one of the men tripped and caused me to scuff one of my legs on the curb.
Things were not off to a great start, but all I could do was hope that the plastic they had forgotten to take off of me would protect my polished looks from the grungy and smoky interior of the truck. The last thing I wanted was to arrive with dirt in my crevices. I still held tight to the image of my new family seeing me for the first time and taking in a deep breath of my lemony fresh scent and knowing I was a perfect fit.
The transition was typical, and yet unwieldy. This family seems...nice. I guess, but I don't know if we will mesh, this room is smaller than I had hoped, and I heard the woman say that I'm bigger than they had expected. I'm wider, deeper and taller than most others these days, I'm aware of it but can't change it, it's how I was made. Hopefully in time they will come to realize that each "abnormality" is a feature which makes me uniquely able to meet any demands placed on me.
I had hoped for a beautiful bay window to look out of everyday, but this room has one small window which is to high for even me to see out of. I also would have preferred a door, so that I could have some peace, protection and focus, some separation from other family functions, but an alcove will have to do, for now.
While my location is not ideal, and the welcome was not what I had expected, these people did make me feel at home and needed by immediately putting me to work. I can already feel the weight of their things on my back, and they've begun trusting me with their secrets, and prized possessions. While to many this would be burdensome, this is what I was made for. I can feel the sturdy grain beneath me stable and ready to endure hours of use everyday for work and pleasure.
Already my surface is being molded and gently weathered by their touch and use. Small etchings have been formed in the front center of my belly, and my shoulders are warm from the light.
Excuse me, my new owner is returning and beckoning for my attention. Oh no, he's holding my second worst nightmare (the first, judging from the picture in my outstretched arm, is probably tucked in bed upstairs), a large glass of ice water, sweltering ever so slightly. My only hope is that he uses a coaster.
Who (or what) am I?