I hate waiting for my couch.

If you've spent any amount of time with me in the past seven months, you'd know that I bought a couch in December. And in March, when it was supposed to be delivered ... well, it wasn't. Thank you, Furniture Store I Will Not Name, for taking my money, failing to deliver the product I paid for, and treating me like shit every time I called to ask where my fucking couch was. I canceled the order.

I ordered another couch. A prettier couch. A more expensive couch. A modern-looking couch. A couch that will probably clash with all my inherited ancient furniture. And it should be here by the end of next week, which is awesome, because, you know, I'll be in Chicago at the end of next week. Not in D.C. With my couch. My beloved couch. With a foldout bed, for those of you who care for those sorts of things, a foldout bed!

Couch, when you get here, I will love you forever. And so will Kelly. Believe me, so will Kelly.