couch for rent

For weeks now, even when I was out of town, it seems like someone is sleeping on my couch when I wake up in the morning.

First, Emily stayed here for a long while, but now that we just moved the her bed to her place, she doesn't need to anymore. Yet, somehow, with loss of his own apartment keys and drunk/sleepiness, Mike Glennon took her place last night. It's as if people are sleeping here just so that living room wouldn't be lonely. Keeping my ottoman company, rubbing my rug's tummy and singing softly to the coffee table. It's really a fair exchange.

I've started making coffee in the morning, and I don't even drink coffee in the morning. It's more like I've turned into a B&B or something. Chateau McD, leave you're worries at the door, washer and dryer on site.

I woke up late today, and all the beds still need to be made, I have tons of work to do to keep this Inn in good working order. I better get to work. How did I sleep in so late?

Maybe I should take a nap, instead. I also have work to do in my dreams.

Three nights ago I had a sad and scary dream, I don't remember what happened in it, I just remember waking up and feeling sad and scared for the rest of the day, and secretly still do a little. I should have a really impressive dream about the opposite emotions to balance it out. Maybe a dream where I am a superhero and I win the lottery, oh, on the beach while eating one of those drumsticks they have at the renaissance fair, oh and in an evening gown. I'll let you know when I have it. I wonder if I can will these things to happen.