The Dead-End Trail To The Couch

Sunday, January 22nd 2017

I totally was taken over by the couch today. I had such good intentions but the signs were all there; I can see them now.

Before I was lost, I had made plans with a good friend and her baby boy to do a small hike in the morning. I had only been up long enough to start coffee when she texted me both her and the baby were up and dressed. It was exactly eight o’clock and I was just emerging from my bed. The first signs of a downward spiral.

We had a really nice hike around the foothills and then I came home and hit the showers. I then hit the couch. I knew I shouldn’t before I did and yet like an addict, I felt I could get up whenever I wanted. I was so very wrong.

I became part of the couch as the next several hours passed, my ass fully engulfed in the cushions. I glazed over and become numb and my will to move dissolved.  I lost myself in episodes of Once Upon A Time; Netflix feeding me more and more episodes, the ultimate addiction dealer.

Before I knew it I was waking up from what I can only predict as an hour and a half nap. I wiped the drool off mouth and looked at Bowie in disgust. We are awful beings. I slumped away from the couch and cleaned up the apartment a bit but somehow I must have blacked out, for I was back on the couch. How did this happen? How did I get back here? I have a list of things to do still!

I tried to resume control by reading a book. The couch would not suspect this, my brain slowly processing thoughts. This plan failed as I only finished the book and found myself surfing the internet. Time went on. I was still on the couch. I looked at Bowie my beloved companion and she was worse off than me. She was back asleep snoring, a true goner. She had become a permanent fixture on the couch. I was on my own.

I would try to escape one last time. I was able to slide off a cushion but alas! The blankets had taken hold of me! They had wrapped themselves around my legs unwilling to surrender me to the day. I looked back, only a glance but it was a second to long. My captor again gained control over me. The warmth of the blankets, Bowie having now joined the dark side, and the couch sucked me down into glorious laziness.

Here I sit comfortable, warm, but disgusted. I write this in hopes you will not suffer my fate. Get rid of your couch, as it will surly never let you go. One sit is all it needs to control you. Beware!



2 thoughts on “The Dead-End Trail To The Couch

  1. Pingback: The Year Of Movement | Darwin Onthetrail

  2. Pingback: In Defense Of Bowie: A Leashed Dog | Darwin Onthetrail

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