I shop for home accessories the way others stock up on shoes, makeup or boxed sets: to feel better. What does that mean? It completes me. And it lasts way longer than a pedicure or massage. Let’s parse that “complete me” thing for a sec (and tale anthropomorphism to a new level in the process), shall we? First, a sculpture or candleholder or whatever catches your eye. Then it speaks to you, as you stare back at it for the –I don’t know—half-minute you speed date/shop, deciding just how perfect life would be if you were together, where this thing will go and how much you can or can’t live without one another. Your eye (or mouse) may even wander on to other stuff, but then the gotta-have-its set in and you’re hooked. Now, if you’re online, it’s a little easier to GO BACK, GO BACK, GO BACK and retrace your steps to find what you’re looking for. But if you’ve just trekked from store to store, for one cool display to another, you may at this point be as panicky as you would be in hot pursuit of a runaway puppy, your car in an airport parking garage or both. When you find each other again, bliss washes over you like a warm Calgon bath. You carry out the transaction in a mood-boosted stupor and either take the thing home in a shopping bag or wait for it to arrive by post or delivery truck.  Unwrapping your purchase, you place it first where you thought it should go, then in ten other spots, then, again, to the original location. This dance of compatibility only enhances the euphoria. Taking a step back to admire your new addition, you wish out loud that everything in life could be this uncomplicatedly fun.