Having people hang out in my new apartment is a strange experience. Because it’s only one room, and the only major piece of furniture I own right now is the bed, it’s a lot like hanging out in a high school bedroom.
I don’t have any posters of the terminator on the wall (yet), but forcing people to sit on my bed is uncomfortable and it reminds me of playing Warcraft and listening to Limp Bizkit. Plus, unless you are weird and own a sex swing, nothing in your home is sexier than the bed. I shouldn’t be forcing people to sit on something that’s only purpose is to help me have gross dreams and occasionally be nude upon; people shouldn’t have to choose between that and the floor — it’s just wrong.
Tonight I’m going to my parent’s house for Easter Dinner and I’m totally going to steal some chairs.
1 Comment