Tag Archives: Couch

Miss Me Yet?

I get it.

The dryer eats socks.

The refrigerator eats cat toys.

The couch eats change.

The bottom desk drawer eats crap I decided at some point was necessary for my life at work.






What I don’t get are the things you see on the side of the road. Or better yet, along the sidewalk.

Forever lost to someone.

I’m not talking about wads of gum or cigarette butts. Nor am I talking about toothpicks, or more specifically those weird harp on a stick looking ones. Actually, they might be a little tiny guitar for a gnome. I didn’t think anyone actually used those. Boy, am I surprised!

Side note: I would also like to make mention, over the last two weeks, there has been an ungodly increase in the number of bandaids along my walking route to work. It doesn’t matter if I’m coming from my beloved ferry or the newly discovered train route. There are bandaids EVERYWHERE. All stuck to the sidewalk (as opposed to the lamp-posts).

They’re rubber slugs that have given up and collapsed.

Right there.

Between Congress and Seaport.



Small ones, regular ones, circular ones and some that are large enough my cat could wear it as a bonnet. My lizards could use it as a hammock.

Johnson & Johnson must have seen an uptick in their bandaid sales in Boston.

What’s with the bandaids? There’s a hell of a lot of bloody blistered feet in town.

And don’t be telling me it’s from the Boston Marathon. That was April 20th and we’re now in June. (insert buzzer sound here)

But, if you were to look at some of the footwear….it makes sense. I was behind a girl today who was not so elegantly hobbling on 4 inch wedges. She had a swagger like Captain Jack Sparrow.

He, by the way, is adorable. Swagger…..Me Now….Meow.

She, swaggering like a squirrel, who just painted their toenails with silver glitter polish and can’t stop admiring them enough to take a step….not so adorable.

FOCUS! Christ, it’s exhausting to watch!

I’m just saying.

If you can’t walk in the shoes, don’t buy them. They make you look like you have no sense of balance and you’re trying to walk a tight rope with giant marshmallows strapped to your feet. You have no clue where your next step is going to land and you’re all over the sidewalk.

But, I digress.

Thank you for your patience.

What I can’t figure out is all the random shit left behind.

The other day. Route 3. A giant stuffed tiger was on the side of the road. I’m talking a kids toy, not a treasure hunter’s dream from Asia. It’s literally miles between exits. How did it end up out there? Then, of course, my mind begins to wander. Was some small child crying they lost their tiger?

I was sad.

Sad for the kid.

Sad for the tiger.

Will this tiger end up on the front of some trash truck? You know what I’m talking about. Will he be happy? I did once see mannequin heads on the side of a trash truck. I didn’t have a chance to snap a photo but damn…that was creepy yet surprising awesome.

Obviously, I’ve watched Toy Story too many times.

Walking you see all kinds of random things. Random enough that I have thought to myself, more times than I’d like to admit….”If I was homeless, this would be a score.”

I’ve seen baby bottles, blankets, shirts, socks, fleece pull overs and tarps. The tarp would be a score as would the fleece pull over.

But then there are the things I see where I scratch my head and just have to say….WTF?

Earlier this week…on my way to grab a sandwich for lunch I came across a shoe on the sidewalk. A perfectly decent loafer. A left one at that. IMG_1886

I’ve seen shoes along the highway. The only thing I can think is someone gets pissed and throws the other person’s shoe out the window when they’re sleeping. Ha. Ha. Ha. So funny. Fucker. Wait till you go to sleep and I’m going to take a permanent marker to your face. Then we’ll see whose laughing.

I’ve seen a right sneaker and then a mile down the road the matching left sneaker. Okay, they obviously left them on the roof of the car and drove off.

Then there are the random flip-flops. Alright. Well, not a huge loss. It’s a flip and a flop. Meh.

But a brand new left foot loafer? You’re going to miss that. Especially if you are currently wearing the right one. Walking down the side walk. With a limp. Duh. Where’s my shoe?

What the hell is going on here? Aliens. Blame the aliens. Always blame the aliens.

The shoe didn’t even have time to get it’s white parts dirty! It makes no sense. Of course, I took a snap!

The other thing that baffles me are the people who move and randomly leave their belongings along the roadside. Are they leaving breadcrumbs to find their way back? If you don’t want to move, don’t. Shouldn’t be a newsflash.

I feel, one of two things could be happening with these cushions….

1. The owner of the couch wants a new couch. Easiest way to get a new couch. Loose a cushion.
2. It was an accident. In which case, sitting on a bunch of duct taped phone books is going to be unfortunate.

Just saying.

Today is Friday and on the way home, I stop at the grocery. I run in and then when I come out, something catches my eye. I look over one space to the left. IMG_1946

Are you kidding me?

Who looses their PILLOW?

This isn’t a fluffy, throw on the bed as decoration type of pillow vis a vis Marilyn Monroe. This isn’t a porn star’s, I need some lift and support, type of pillow. This is a regular, put your head down and go to sleep type of pillow.

First off, what are you doing with a pillow in the grocery parking lot?

Secondly, why is it in the shopping cart return?

Then I think…..ohhhhh, if I was homeless, that would be a score! (what is wrong with me?)
And next, I snap a picture.
Of course.

The Best Night’s Sleep in Ages

Sometimes I hate having to go to bed.

I think I’m tired.  I put on my pajamas, brush my teeth, wash my face and climb into bed.

As soon as my head hits the pillow my brain sends a signal that says, “Open 24 Hours” in a giant neon sign.  Blindly blinking behind my eyeballs.

On.  Off.  On.  Off.  On.  Off.  On.


Couldn’t I ponder what to eat for dinner tomorrow….maybe tomorrow?

Do I really need to replay that conversation ten times….with various optional endings?

I have weeks to decide what to wear to that event.  Why think about it now?

Am I really laying here thinking about what lion fur feels like?  (I bet it’s coarse.)

Seriously, I don’t need to be wondering what it means to dream about water and bears.




The list could go on and on.  No topic is excluded.

Sometimes, I can’t sleep because I am cursed with migraine headaches.  If you never suffered one, imagine someone putting an ice pick through your temple and having it come out your eyeball.  Or someone is trying to saw through your skull with a very dull steak knife….slowly splitting your head in two.  They’re hellish.

Other times sleep is simply not going to appear because of what I term, “Wiggly Leg Syndrome.”  Just can’t get comfortable.  Everything is achy.  The bed is uncomfortable.

Tossing.  Turning.  Rolling.  Sighing.

Nothing.  Helps.

This was the case the other night.  Aggravated, I contemplated my options.

Getting up at this particular hour was not an option, unless I was of the vampire pedigree or a late, late, late night owl.   Also, getting up would certainly mean missing the opportunity to fall asleep.  Duh.

If the bed is so uncomfortable, I could sleep in the guest room.  I love that bed.  However, my better half decided to put the bed up on stilts, so Rubbermaid containers could go underneath.  When I say Rubbermaid containers, I mean FULL SIZE containers, not the ones designed to slide under beds.  Being I am only 5’1 (on a good day), I require the step ladder to get into the guest bed now.


Even the dog has to get a running jump to get into the guest bed.  This of course causes her to land like a 60 pound cannon ball….nicely waking me up from any potential sleep that happened to accidentally sneak up on me.

Guest bed is out.

I could sleep on one of the couches.  But I am a side sleeper and well, when you curl up into a ball there’s just not enough space for me to get comfortable.  I’m always worried my butt is going to fall off the couch.

Never mind the couch.

The floor is an option.  I could get out my sleeping bag and Thermarest camping mattress.  Unfortunately they’re in the garage.  Having to go out into the garage to get them is a hassle.  I’d have to get the ladder to get to the shelf with the sleeping bag…besides the garage is cold.  The sleeping bag and mattress will be cold as well.  And it’s too much effort when trying to convince sleep to come visit.

Nix that idea.

Then it hit me.

The perfect solution.

I grabbed my favorite pillow and blanket.  Walked over to the other side of the bedroom and there it was…still fluffy from having the cover just washed.  In fact, the cover may have still been a little warm from the dryer.  I threw down my pillow, curled up in my most comfortable position and pulled my blanket up under my chin.

It was just the right size for me.  I understood the art of making a nest as I curled up and sunk into the fluffy bed.  I slept the entire night through.

No aches or pains.

No nightmares.

No crowding.

No sweating.

The giant, round, fake sheep wool, cedar scented dog bed was perfect.

Yes, my most perfect night’s sleep in ages was courtesy of Mrs. Pickles’ dog bed.  No wonder she likes her bed so much – it was ridiculously comfortable.

Can you imagine the next time we need to buy her a new dog bed?  Turn the corner in Costco and there I’ll be…. curled up on a new dog bed…testing it out.

Please note:  Mrs. Pickles, was equally delighted to have my side of the bed all to herself for the evening.