she's
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Um, hi. How's it going.

You don't know me, but I'm Sarah's couch. You know - the one item in her apartment that doesn't have a first name?

The reason why I'm writing is because I'm feeling a bit neglected. I'm about three years old, which isn't old in couch terms. I mean, I know sofas that are hundreds of years old, and they look new. And yeah... I do look a bit worn.

I was a gift to Sarah from her uncle. Let me tell you - that was a great day when I showed up. First thing she did was stretch out on me. That was great. Couches are meant to be used. For a year or so I was used every day. She would sleep on me, eat on me, watch TV while sitting on me... She even trained that walking dust mop not to use me as a scratching post. It was love, man.

She never did use my best feature, though. I mean, come on! I fold out into a bed! How awesome is that? I'm a two-in-one piece of furniture. Multiple use.

But then that... that thing came along. That box that hums. The computer. Sarah stopped spending hours sitting on me, and spent hours sitting in front of the box instead. Pretty soon, the only time she would sit on me was to tie her shoes in the morning.

After a while, though, there was a ray of hope. She started using me in my fullest capacity, as a bed. It was just while that balding guy was over, but it felt so great to finally be used! After all that time, I was fulfilling my complete use.

Then the sag started. My middle cushions started falling into my innards, and Sarah shoved pillows into me to puff me up a bit. I felt a bit silly, all stuffed to the gills with pillows like that, but it apparently made her more comfortable. Anything that makes her more comfortable is fine by me. She still wasn't sitting on my enough, but it was a start.

But one day... They gutted me. Her and the balding guy. I thought they were going to pull out my bed again, but they just pulled out my mattress - and then went upstairs with it! What bastards! It's like... It's like they didn't want anything to do with me. Oh, sure, they would still sit in front of me, using me as a backrest, but with my insides gone, I had nothing to hold up the cushions with. I was a shell of the couch I used to be.

They eventually put the mattress back, but I've never been the same since. Who knows what they were doing on my mattress? Imagine someone ripping out your heart, making off with it, and returning it to you days later. Where has it been? Who's been using it? What's been done to it? No idea.

It's so creepy.

I'm covered in cat hair. I'm sagging even worse in the middle now. I have cereal gumming up my levers. I'm a mess. I was starting to give up. Just drift off into oblivion. After all, what good is a couch that no one uses?

But this morning, Sarah took a nap. On me. For several hours.

How can I describe the joy I felt?

Look, I don't know what you have to do... But get Sarah off that computer and back onto the couch where she belongs. Please.