Sleeping On The Couch

I slept on the couch last night.  To me, sleeping on the couch is not a bad thing.  It may revert back to my childhood days when my brother and I had to go to bed on school nights while our younger sister got to stay up and watch The Carol Burnett Show with my mom.  I could hear everything from my bed; I wanted nothing more than to be able to lay on the couch and watch TV with them.  I still hate to go to bed. And I hate to get out of bed in the morning.  I get way too comfortable exactly where I am.  (I must have been a bitch to give birth to).

Big Daddy hates when I fall asleep on the couch, because I get combative and don’t want to go all the way upstairs to bed when I’m soooo comfortable.  He doesn’t like to go to bed at night either, and he hates to go to bed alone even more.  Misery loves company.  For a while, he took it as a personal rejection when I wanted to stay up later than him, or if, God forbid, I spent the night on my comfy couch.  Not that we were going to do anything but sleep.  He just didn’t want to make the sad journey upstairs alone.  And I wasn’t about to go when I wasn’t yet tired, or still had things to do, or just didn’t feel like going to bed yet.   I certainly don’t make anyone go to bed early during tax season, when I force myself to bed by 11:30 to avoid becoming a sleep-deprived zombie by mid-afternoon at work.  I don’t feel angry or rejected when he creeps into bed an hour later.  It’s just the way things are.

Other than the cold shoulder I sometimes get from Big Daddy, I did get in trouble one time by sleeping on a couch instead of going to bed.  A couple times a year, my co-workers and I would have to travel about 3 hours from home to do an audit for one of our clients.  We would each get our own two-room suite for the week, for the meager 10 hours a day when we weren’t actually working.  I was so excited–I could either sleep in the King-sized bed by myself or just crash on the couch in the inner-room.  One night I just cozied up on the couch, figuring I’d keep checking the time on the microwave across the room to let me know when to get up.

I never used an alarm clock.  I hate those things.  I could always kind of sense what time I needed to get up, check the clock, and voila.  But, alas, like my flat belly and 20/20 vision, this gift seems to be disappearing with age.  That dark morning, in that windowless inner hotel room, an urgent-sounding knock woke me from my sleep.  I was scared since the clock on the microwave, I was sure, said 3:10.  What was going on?

I looked out the little peep hole and saw my co-worker Ron, looking very somber and accountant-like in his dark raincoat and black-rimmed glasses.  “What’s wrong?”, I asked, worried that something bad had happened to one of my co-workers.  “It’s like 3:00 in the morning!”.

“No.  It isn’t”, he replied very matter-of-factly.  Then my heart started beating double-time as I realized I had way slept in on that comfy couch in that very dark room, and my boss and co-workers had been waiting in the lobby for me to meet them for breakfast.  I told them to go eat breakfast and pick me up on their way back.  I would eat the continental breakfast at the hotel after I got dressed.  My co-workers got a good laugh out of this, but I didn’t enjoy this kind of wake-up.  In fact, not only do I request a wake-up call from the desk, I don’t sleep on the couch anymore when I’m away on business.

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2 Responses to “Sleeping On The Couch”


  1. 1 Emily September 5, 2008 at 5:51 pm

    Oh, you and my husband, both. Meanwhile, nothing makes me happier than getting INTO BED.

  2. 2 Sheri November 12, 2008 at 9:38 pm

    I”m like you.. I can sleep anywhere, and I’m so bitchy if I get woken up and forced to go to BED….

    There is nothing wrong with a couch.. and it would save alot of money if other people would sleep on one as well =P haha


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