Screw Matt Damon and his purchase of a zoo. Jenny and I got something even better recently: a couch.
Now with a couch in our possession, expect endless parodies of The Simpsons’ opening credits. Also, prepare for missing quarters and candy crumbs discovered years later from within the cushions.
Getting a couch is a big deal. I haven’t had one since 2012. All fours years I’ve lived at my current location—earth—I’ve had to make due sans couch.
In all fairness, it’s actually a love seat. To avoid confusion, because toilets are a lot more loving, let’s stick with calling it a couch. Just because we don’t expect to have a child soon or plan on inviting any guests over—therefore has no use for more than two seat—doesn’t make us any less important. A love seat meets our needs completely and then some. There’s even a little more room for us to get fatter too!
Buying furniture is never high on my to-do list. In fact, all furniture I’ve ever owned was gifted. I certainly could’ve used a couch much earlier on in my dwellings here, but a combination of cheapness and lack of organizational skills kept me on the floor or in the bed whenever I needed a rest. I’m so bad at organizing different shapes I’ve literally lost at Tetris three shapes in. I’ve also been fired from more hedge maze design jobs than anyone else because of how poorly I stack the bushes.
So we’ve got a couch now. I feel like a superstar. I feel like nobody can tell me what to do anymore. I’m normal now. Yes. Normal people get married, buy couches, and then slowly get fatter.