So, when I come home after work, I throw my bag down and instead of getting out of uniform, I run right to my couch. Of course, that’s where my laptop is and yes, I may have a small internet addiction, but that’s not it. On weekends, Fridays where I don’t go out. I fall asleep on my couch. The Monster Teen has learned not to try to make me go to my room. He just turns off all the lights. I have a pillow and blanket there.
My couch is my inanimate boyfriend. I name him forever more… Hector.
Hector is there for me. We sit comfortably together. He doesn’t tell me I’m fat (even though I’ve lost over 25 pounds in the past 2 months, go me!). Hector doesn’t care if I decide to hang with him in PJs, unbrushed teeth, and my hair a mess with no makeup. Hector is the PERFECT inanimate boyfriend.
He’s not like my bed. Cold and empty because my picky butt still hasn’t found someone I’m willing to share it with, no matter how many online dating sites I join.
Oh god, its depressingly hilarious that I have a closer relationship with a frackin couch than any man right now.
For that reason, I’m going out on a date today with someone who while attractive, may be just trying to see the dimensionthe5th knickers color. But, as much as Hector means to me, this relationship is bad for my mental health!