We went apartment hunting today, for “funsies.” We have been trying to do something every Saturday – you know, new place, new adventures. Anyway, today is was exploring some places to rent around the area, because as much as we love our compact home, we have to move next fall. Our current place is great, we’ve made a little home out of our little apartment with our little dog.
But, listen, I need to live somewhere with the room for a couch.
I need a couch. I miss being able to lay down and watch tv or read. I mean, we have my favorite purple chair, but that’s my library chair. It’s not my lounge chair. (read this in your whiny teenage angst voice, it adds desperation and really emphasizes how pathetic my complaints are). I mean there’s something so great about a squishy couch, and laying down on it with the dog or your husband. Or, without your husband. Some nights, its nice to have the option to fall asleep on the couch, alone, with the fuzzy throw.
So, we’re moving in the fall (hopefully as a result of my fabulous new job that I’ll find) because I need a couch.