So our professor told us quite some time ago that to establish ourselves as writers we must write every day. I have failed in this task. Dismally. I am however, as I think of it, with a little procrastinating time on my hands, and with everything too noisy to try and get real work done, going to write something.
I wanted to get something off my chest. It's the fact that I don't have a couch. I mean seriously, what a ridiculous thing to be wanting. In my room currently, I have a single bed, a desk, a chest of drawers and a cupboard. Sort of. More like a small box. What I crave though, is a couch. It is one of my motivations for wanting to move out of dorms in the nearish future. I want a couch that: I can curl up on in winter with a blanket and a good book, I can fall asleep on watching TV at 8pm, I can entertain guests on, I can flip through magazines with a glass of wine on. It just seems like a cultural necessity to own one. When I go home, I do all of these things. My favourite is falling asleep on a saturday night, after some thai take away and wine, watching Breakfast at Tiffany's. Yes. I need a couch. It's an investment I feel is very necessary for my well being. Im sick of my yoga mat covered in pillows. It just isn't the same.
