Sounds coming from the garish infomercial are what startled my slumber. I didn't want to hear about empty promises from paid actors, but I was too tired to find the remote + change the channel. It took me a good minute to realize I had fallen asleep on the couch for the second time this week + its only Wednesday.
The couch is my sanctuary when sick, or where I bundle up in blankets on cold days off to be a useless human + binge on movies. Over the course of the last few months, I find myself waking up in the middle of the night [sometimes in a cold sweat], slumped over uncomfortable pillows, usually with my socks tossed onto the living room table. Most of the time I don't even bother trudging up the stairs to my bedroom - I simply readjust the pillows, cocoon myself in the blanket + turn onto my other side.
While snagging coffee with a friend last week, I mentioned how I had been gravitating toward the couch out of nowhere. Since taking a handful of psychology courses, he likes to play therapist, telling me that its either because I don't like sleeping alone in my bed anymore, or I am mentally preparing to move + crash on couches while I find a place to live. Although his response was half-joking, I have toyed around the idea of selling most of my belongings, packing up my car + moving westward. I've always wanted to be able to pick up + go, but the annoying urge to be responsible + play it safe usually wins.
I think I need a new adventure.