Sofa Excavation (and other forms of procrastination)

I de-crumbed the couch today—thrust my bare hands into the mysterious crevices beneath the cushions and reached for who-knows-what. My dig yielded a few dozen stale crackers and pretzels (mostly crushed into coarse granules), a half-dozen writing utensils, and one white Matchbox tow truck. Surprisingly—disappointingly—zero cash. (I remember lean times in the late ’70s when sofa excavation would get us a gallon of milk.) Plus, I did discover the DVD remote, the disappearance of which prompted the unpleasant task in the first place.

Once the couch was semi-clean, I fought a fierce urge to rearrange the furniture. It’s a sure sign of a looming deadline in my life when the interior decorator in me rears her neurotic head. All of a sudden, I might decide, we need a bright-orange bathroom. Or a mocha-brown stairwell. Or a purple piano bench off eBay requiring a 1-hour drive each way to collect, with 3 kids in tow.

So, instead of postponing my freelance editing project by shoving our crayoned couches around the living room, I sat down to blog.

(Incidentally, in whiling away more minutes searching for a photo illustration for this post, I came across this Couch Cushion Cooties Contest. I’d enter, but I already trashed my stuff.)