The Couch

We have a very comfortable couch. When we bought it, over 3 years ago, I told my husband to get whatever he wanted. This was not an open invitation to spend; rather, it was a hostile order, issued after a long day of driving from one furniture store to another, and back again, searching for the perfect couch that we both liked. I am frugal in my spending habits and was guided mainly by price. Andy, on the other hand, wanted something comfortable, that would fit his 6' frame, and looked good. I felt sorry for the salesman who witnessed the terse exchange prior to making our purchase, but he probably sees that sort of thing all the time.

So we ended up with a very comfortable couch, good for sinking in and sleeping on. In fact, both of us have slept on the couch many times. It used to be that Andy, tired of hearing me breathe and unable to sleep as a result, would get up in a huff and retire to the living room, where he had the comfy couch and some quiet. This always made me feel bad - one, because I was the cause of him not being able to sleep and, two, because we're married and we should be sharing our bed! It didn't help that his departure always woke me from my deep sleep and caused a bit of anxiety/confusion.

For the last four days, I have elected to sleep on the couch so Andy could catch up on sleep and I could breathe in peace. The first three nights were fine, but last night was not so great. I woke up a few times, open mouth dry from breathing through it. Falling back to sleep was made difficult by the sound of the cat pulling kibble from his bowl, onto the floor, so he could eat directly off the floor. This morning I am tired and looking forward to the end of the day, knowing that our office will be closed tomorrow (furlough day) and Monday (MLK holiday), and that our weekend trip to Vegas will allow us to share a bed once again, if only for a few days.