Sofa, so good…

THE couch was a surprise.

It shouldn’t have been. How many movies and TV shows do you see where someone visits a psychologist and sits on the couch?

But this couch, tucked next to a box of toys, in a window-less room looked like it had been picked up for $50 from someone’s driveway – from some student share-house where the owners wanted to get “their drink on” and forfeited their small blue velveteen bit of luxury for hard liquor.

I didn’t like sitting on that couch. A bit like I didn’t like getting into a developer’s luxury sedan one time brimming with wood-grain trim and smelling of polish – it was “above” me and my scrappy notepad, my grey journo pants fixed with a safety pin.

This couch was “beneath” me. I’ve been on a uni-student sofa before… I’ve owned such sofas.

If I was going to tell this person the inner-most workings of my mind, I didn’t want to do it like this. It was the soft furnishings version of an awkward pre-adolescent hug from a distant relative during a funeral.

It didn’t need to be leather. I wouldn’t have told that couch anything either. Maybe convinced it of my own sophistication by citing my varied accomplishments in life. I’d want a leather couch to think well of me, not pity me.

But the blue, velvety thing? I wouldn’t share with it either. I’m almost old and wise enough to be this couch’s mother (?!). I should be offering it advice and gentle noises of comfort and concern.

Funny thing about a couch is… once you sit on it, it disappears from view. It stops being of any consequence.

Now my focus has shifted to the psychologist – a lovely woman with long black hair and broken English – who tells me “You are suffering post-natal depression.”

Another numb surprise. Also blue in colour.


3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Sheeple Liberator
    Jan 01, 2012 @ 07:26:14

    You have a great way with words. I really wish you all the best Peta-Jo 🙂


  2. Trackback: Holding on: thin threads and tight smiles « PetaJo

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: