cats and couches

Couches More Addictive Than Heroin Study Finds

You don’t see couches very high on the official list of addictive substances. Heroin is the star of that roster; everyone loves heroin—even people who don’t use drugs (like me). But the problem with heroin is that it’s got a bad face, and first impressions matter; heroin essential looks like dirt. My couch on the other hand, looks VERY inviting: plush cushions, throw blankets, back support, and a sexy chaise that competes so hard with the bedroom, even my mattress is like “Dude, WTF.”

While heroin has a well-documented power over the lives of its abusers, I’ll abuse the shit out of my couch without a second thought about its equal power to destroy an afternoon of productivity. But in the end, the couch, too, is a lie; it’s a distraction from my other addiction: self-delusion.

I wandered into the kitchen and milled about in circles. This was me pretending to enumerate a quick list of nothings to which I could then feign choosing between—just before choosing nothing at all. “Choosing nothing is a choice,” my wit would say. And I’d have trouble arguing with a wit like that, whose heart lies in fundamental truth. Brilliant. I’ve done it again.

The sound of the dishwasher running in the background had me consider it: whether it felt the effort of anger over my lack of productivity was worth its voicing. It churned on, obnoxiously, and refused to speak to me. I returned the favor and swung by the recycling bin. With the remaining bottles of Sam Adams depleted, I checked my phone.

A fellow writer had messaged me, and in good form, threw salt on the wound; he’s been pounding away at a short novelette over the past two weeks and wanted to make sure I was up to date on his time card for this week.

“I’ve spent almost every minute writing. I’m eating now, and then I’ll probably finish it off”.

Fuck.

Matthew Rosario

American / Writer / Musician