There's still a couch at the end of the driveway, of course. But I'm so relieved to be rid if the green beast, I am prepared to show leniency towards pretty much every other couch on the planet. There is a song in my heart, and a floor in my bedroom. Life is good.

Perhaps someday I will try again to obtain a couch. But first, I think I wanna spend a few days just walking around my bedroom. I'll walk over to the little table by the bed, and then I'll walk all the way around to the dresser on the other side of the bed, and then I'll walk over to the closet, and then maybe I'll walk back over to the little table again. I'm gonna seriously do that like 50 times tomorrow. Man. That's gonna be some sweet walking. I can't wait.

***

"I know Raso's English isn't good. I'll talk slow. HASH! BROWNS! HAAAAALF OR-DER! VERYVERY SMALL! EXTRA EXTRA EXTRA CRISPY!!"

(Um, you're not actually talking to Raso right now. You're talking to me. Hi. I speak English fluently. Oh, and I'm standing right next you. Thanks.)

"Hey, did you know that guy in the corner booth's been sitting there for two hours? What's his problem?"

(So...you've been sitting here for two hours, watching the guy in the corner booth? Uh...maybe he's just waiting for you to leave first.)

"I'll have a waffle."

"Ok, great. Did you want any bacon or sausage or anything?"

"I SAID HAM!!"

(...)

Conversations I have at work. Sometimes, they're almost Zen.

OK, not really. They're really not very Zen at all. I'm just trying to justify throwing a bunch of random quotes from work at you any way I can.

See, these people were all spontaneously coming up with the most brilliant insanities, and I feel they should be preserved for the ages and it's my damn journal so thhpt.

I'm still giggling about the woman shouting at me, so Raso would understand it. What the hell? Even if he was standing there, do you think he would have maybe magically understood you if you shouted? It's bizarre on so many levels at once.

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