My Corona Diary (Take XVIII): Two More Days Left (On This Crappy Couch) (UPDATED: 9/17)

 <"Couch Countdown/Take I"

The Reckoner>

<i.>

Three more days left, on this crappy couch!  Man oh man oh man. I still can't believe it. Imagine shoving yourself into a piece of furniture that isn't as wide as your body, forcing you to move the ottoman next to it, just so your legs have somewhere to go. It sucks, but for the last couple weeks, that's been my lot. 

The reason? Well, we had to ditch the mattress on my bed, having already replaced the original box spring, which was slowly sinking, or so it seemed, into the center of the Earth. You know, the one Jules Verne wrote about? Yeah, that center. But we found ourselves writing a $365 check for a new queen size mattress.

The Squawker broke the news to me after I'd taken out the trash, saying that there were bugs popping their heads out of several holes in the mattress. What sort of bugs, you ask? Weevils. 

As in, the kind that love grains -- macaroni and cheese, pasta, rice, anything like that. I started seeing them late at night, crawling on the wall, as I worked at my computer. Not the kind of sight you want at 2:00 or 3:00 a.m.

Anyway, I grunted and hauled that mattress out, all by myself, off to the dumpster, around 10:45 p.m. that Friday night. The next day, the Squawker and I headed off to our local furniture store. We had some shopping to do.

<"Couch Countdown/Take II"

The Reckoner>

<ii.>

The choice required less thought than we'd imagined.  Depending on how fancy you want to get, you can easily spend north of $500 for a new mattress, and from there, easily escalate into the four-figure stratosphere. But we weren't too keen on that notion. The most basic model, we found, started at $295.

That idea sounded good, at first, but flew out the window the minute that Squawker tried sitting on it, in the showroom. The scrunched up face and accompanying shrug told me enough, before I even heard the reason: "It's way too thin. And I don't think I could get up off it." So we scaled up to the next model, whose overall size and feel seemed to suit our needs better. The sales agent fetched the paperwork. We signed it, wrote the check, and called it a day.

We go home, thinking, oh, it's coming Friday? Great. But I'm stuck on this crappy couch, I tell myself. "But it closes the circle," we tell each other, since I'd actually bought the box spring back in February, with one of my writing checks. Until then, I'd slept on that now-discarded mattress, on the floor. But I'm stuck on this crappy couch. 

It's only a week? Even that time span feels too long, the way I'm having to twist myself to sleep in it. But I'm stuck on this crappy couch. I average about two and a half to three hours of pure, uninterrupted sleep, until I have to stumble to the bathroom, or jackknife myself back into a different position. But I'm stuck on this crappy couch. 

What's more, most of the time, I can only sleep on my right side, due to the couch's overall configuration. Hence, my two- to three-hour blocks of sleep. But I'm stuck on this crappy couch. To top it all off, this state of affairs means that Squawker and I are sleeping in separate rooms. But I'm stuck on this crappy couch. 

The saving grace? We're getting our new mattress delivered, which beats doing it ourselves. That happened to us in Chicago, I remember. The seller spaced out on helping with that little detail, so we wound up tying it on top of our car, and driving at a crawl back home, for a half hour trip that seemed to stretch...well, a good deal longer. It was not fun.

<:Couch Countdown/Take III"

The Reckoner>

<iii.>

Friday the 4th rolls around. It's been a long week on this crappy couch. Well, I take that back. 

I'd spent the first couple nights on the floor, which required taking the three cushions off the couch, and plunking them on the floor, as a makeshift bed. But we both quickly tired of that routine, because it meant having to stick them back in place, pull down the cover it, and so on.

Even after I'd figured out the ottoman trick, I found myself struggling with a sore neck and shoulder area. Sleeping in one position most of the time, as cramped as I've been, will do that. I'd literally been counting down each night toward the big day: five, four, three, two, one. It's like the intro of "Ready, Steady, Go," only without the Swinging '60s glamour, I guess.

They've given us a range of 3:00 to 5:00 p.m. The Squawker lays on the one intact bed, while I work at my computer. I periodically look at the keyboard clock. The time slips to 3:30, 4:00, 4:15, 4:30... Finally, at Squawker's nudging, I call the furniture store. "Hey, I don't want to pry, but are you guys running late, or something? Nobody's called here."

The clerk apologizes. Either we've screwed up, or they have, but it turns out -- get this, now -- the delivery is this Friday, September 11. Shouldn't be too hard to remember now, right? The range is the same as before, 3:00 to 5:00 p.m., so it's official now, at least. I'm spending another week on that crappy couch, another week of twisting around to sleep on it.

Like that old song says: You don't know what you got, till's it gone. Well, it's not as though I ever took sleep for granted. Even so, if this Friday sticks, I can say one thing for sure already.

There's nothing like feeling of the sleeping in your own bed, once you've placed the world in the off position. But until then? I'm stuck on this crappy couch. --The Reckoner

<Update #1: 9/13/20>

Well, I spoke too soon, as it turns out. Our delivery has been postponed once more, this time, to a block of time (4:00 to 6:00 p.m.) on Tuesday. So what happened? Well, since this mattress is a Serta one, it's being specially made at a factory in Beloit, WI. However -- all of the relevant parts come from somewhere else, including the springs. 

Not just any springs, mind you, since it's Serta, but once those come in, we should be good to go. That's what the furniture store rep assured me last Friday, at any rate. I'll let know you all how it turns out. As I told Squawker, "I've made it this long on the couch, I'm sure I can continue for a couple more nights."

<Update #2: 9/17/20>

Thankfully, though, I don't have to endure anymore nights on the couch.  As promised, it arrived around 5:00-ish or so on Tuesday, and it's felt f#cking great. 

The problem with that couch, as I've already mentioned, is that it's just too small for six-foot-zero-or-so me, which meant that I'd get two or three uninterrupted hours, at most, and have to wake up...either to hit the john, or stretch quickly, and somehow try to stumble into a new position. Even so...

When you're cramming into a five-foot or so space, you exhaust your bag of tricks, such as they are, pretty quickly.

I got a brief, but interesting conversation with the delivery guys. One actually had the day off, "but I came in to help out, because I knew these guys had so many mattresses to deliver," he told me.

"How many, exactly?" I asked.

"About 30 or 40, I think. We've been pretty busy all day." The guy's co-worker confirmed that assessment, with a shy smile. 

"So, it's basically feast or famine, huh?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Deliveryman Number One nodded. "Either there's plenty around, because they came all at once, or else there's hardly any."

"I never knew." I signed the receipt, and handed the top copy back. The yellow one stayed with me. "Well, good luck with the rest of your day, guys."

"Thanks." 

So ends our latest adventure, and my latest all-nighter, which means...I'm off to my own bed again, for the second night running. After two-plus weeks without one, I'm not taking that experience for granted. Not that I ever did, but I'm redoubling that vow again, and then some -- believe me.