Sometimes you lose your keys. Sometimes you lose your mind. Sometimes your boyfriend breaks up with you and you lose him too. But you know what, sometimes you also lose your couch. What? Yep, you even lose your couch. Well, you may not know what it feels like to lose such a massive part of your furniture collection, but the ladies of the Stumble Inn know the feeling quite well.
It was a fabulous, rainy morning on the first day of classes in Ann Arbor, Michigan. The sun was hiding, the birds were crying, and the line at the book store was out the door and around the corner. You could almost smell tears in the air. I won't sugar coat it. Classes at the University of Michigan are hard. And waking up after a week of non-stop drinking and partying during the infamous Welcome Week make the first day that much more difficult. However, if new classes, scared freshman, backordered books and snobby professors weren't enough, the ladies of the Stumble Inn lost a dear friend that morning.
After trudging home from class for lunch, I walked in to the house to discover a package of mine sitting on my front porch (To be honest, this isn't the unusual part of the story. I have a shopping problem and I am well aware of it). After excitedly picking up my package and struggling with the sticky lock on the front door, I walked in to the house to discover that our living room couch was missing! Our pride and joy. Our little baby. The place that consoles us when we have one too many "lemonades" on friday nights. The Ke$ha couch (the couch deemed this name when we moved into the house and found the couch covered with sparkles and confetti. Have you ever tried to remove sparkles and confetti from a couch? It doesn't work. So they stayed and we loved them). I closed my eyes only to open them and discover that I wasn't just seeing things, our couch was actually gone.
Being my paranoid self, I immediately thought we were robbed. Ready to call 911, I decided to take a breath instead and text my roomies. However, their responses only frightened me even more. They told me the couch had been there only an hour earlier. I started to panic and called out in the house to see if anyone was home. Not only was I alone, but I didn't have a couch to catch me when I needed to sit down from light headedness.
Confusion set in next. If my room mates didn't have anything to do with this strange disappearance, and our land lord never called to tell us he was coming to the house, what was going on? I tried to pretend that the couch was still there and I made myself lunch. Turkey sandwiches have a way with calming nerves.
An hour later, my phone buzzed. One of the roomies, Gauree, tried to clear things up that she had called our land lord about replacing a broken coffee table. Well that makes perfect sense, right?! We call about a coffee table and he takes our couch! Yes, now we can all sleep easy. No. Wrong. So Gauree called the land lord back and found out that he was going to replace the couch, but he just decided not to tell us yet.
So the mystery was solved, but no one has any idea as to when our couch will be replaced. For now we will just have to lay some pillows on the ground, cuddle together, and hope for the best. But do you want to know the saddest part of the whole thing? We didn't even get to say goodbye to the Ke$ha couch. Rest in peace little one. You will be missed.
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