I have been at this couch surfing thing for nearly a week now. One of the best parts is that my bank account didn’t take the standard thousand-dollar hit it usually does the first week of the month. The second part is that I haven’t exactly been on a couch. Since my friend is out of town, he has afforded me the luxury of his room, Internet, direct-access door to the bathroom and restless sleep – thanks, Serta Mattress. He practically lives over a cafe with coffee and sandwiches served until the evening. Public transit is spitting distance and there is a grocery store about two blocks away. Also, I already know where the bars are — at least one I like.
Day two of couch surfing involved me rolling out of bed, going for a jog and coming back to seeing the pre-game show for the UEFA Cup Finals already keyed up on the TV and someone preparing a delightful brunch complete with mimosas. Life is so hard. As you can see, I’m not exactly roughing it. Living out of two moderate-sized duffle bags, I have everything I need for about two weeks worth of activities before being forced to do laundry. That reminds me: Washer and dryer in the apartment.
I think the neatest thing about this situation is it has now come to pass that I have lived with four men named Sean in a row. The first three all had different spellings: Sean, Shawn and Shaun – in that order. I continue to think this is an incredibly strange coincidence given that I’ve only known a handful of Seans my entire life. The first Sean, I lived with in San Jose and is a dear friend of mine. The second Shawn became my roommate upon moving to San Francisco. He’s an amazing chef with a bit of a “San Francisco” problem which I am sure only enhances his love for food. The third Shaun I met at my last job and we just happened to be looking for housing around the same time. Voila! Shaun roommate number three. And now, I have my current and temporary Sean, and the only thing that separates him from the previous Sean is that he’s actually Irish. From-Ireland Irish. And, he has Irish friends – kind of my kryptonite.
It’s okay. Try not to feel bad for me. #wristonforehead #loadedsigh