Sofa hell.

Buying a couch was fucking irresponsible.

But I got one anyway. Just after Cole was born, and money was good, Mum helped me do away with brown couch, the one I'd been sitting on since I was 4, the one that had seen me through the beginnings of both of my own kids. A 25 year relationship with my brown draylon 9 piece modular friend.

We went to shitty Redpaths and got a 'package' 2 couches, 2 coffee tables, a dining room set with table and 4 chairs. Sweet deal. Sorta.

All of it was crap. like incredibly cheaply not made to last crap. within months the coffee table was awash with dings, not really helped by the two growing wreckers I shared my life with, but hey, thats kids for you. Out of all of it, its been the table thats lasted the best but one of the chairs is munted and keeps breaking so you can't sit on it proper.

But nevermind all that... it was the 2 couches that did my head in the end. I had them made in this really cool black fabric. On the bolt it was thick and looked hard wearing, GURARENTEED to hide stains. no?

FUCK.

After a few days of sitting on it it started to pill. I put this down to new wear, like new carpet. I dutifully pulled the pilling off. and then it did it again. And again. and fucks sake, I had seemingly bought the worst fabric known to man. I mourned brown couch and its ever dependability. But here it was, BLACK couch. I couldn't change it, so I stuck it out (should have sent the fucking thing back. Im too soft).

7 years now I've hated on the couch. 7 years makes up 1/6 of my life hating an object. This is unhealthy. And so in the midst of an economic recession I have got a new one. Timing is pretty shit I know. I am hoping that the new couch, 'Latte' couch, will do us proud, it is long enough for Seb to lie down fully extended, and the other couch is long enough for me to lie down on.

I had hoped black couch would be my new 25 year champ, but it was a marriage made in hell, and Im getting a divorce.