Matt woke
up on the couch around 8:00 in the morning. He was having terrible dreams about
moths eating though all his clothes. The moths were hard to catch and looked
more like folded bits of paper fluttering around in a strong breeze. They were
chewing through every shirt and tee-shirt he owned and there didn’t seem to be
anything he could do. Except wake up, which he did.
He was
disappointed to find himself on the couch. He’d wanted to make it into his bed
at least once this weekend. He was always getting home too late from the bar,
half in the bag, and falling asleep on the couch. He didn’t want to but it just
seemed that his body had enough and wanted to shut off right where it was. At
least he didn’t fall asleep in the bar. That was just not done.
He checked
the time on his phone to make sure he was as disoriented as he thought. It was
just after 8:00 a.m. now. Why did his
body, so crazy tired a few hours ago, want to wake up now? He didn’t have to
pee. He didn’t have any where to be. He just snapped awake. Like someone had
flipped a switch. He sat up and felt a terrible stiffness in his elbow where he
had apparently been lying on it. He extended his arm and tried to stretch it
out. He stood from the couch and felt soreness all through his body. It was
cold in the house. He’d left a window open and a very chilly spring breeze was
blowing in. Matt moved toward the window and shut it and shivered a little.
He shuffled
slowly toward the kitchen and considered making something to eat, or maybe a
cup of coffee, but that seemed like a lot of work for so early Sunday morning.
He dragged his feet through the kitchen and stopped at the sink. It was filled
with dishes yet to be loaded into the dishwasher. He hated that he’d gotten so
lazy that he didn’t even want to bother with it. He thought about getting
started on that chore, but was overwhelmed with not wanting to do it. He looked
out the window that faced the back yard and thought that it would be nice to
spend a quiet afternoon reading in his lawn chair out there. But that thought
was once again quashed by just not feeling of just not wanting to do it.
Matt turned
from the window and shuffled back toward the living room. He remembered he did
want a Coke and grabbed one out of the pantry as he passed by. He cracked it
open as he shuffled and took a long satisfying drink. There was nothing like a
room temperature Coke for a hang over. Matt moved back the couch and took up
his usual sitting position. He turned on the TV that was over the fire place
and started mindlessly flipping through the channels looking for something to
watch. The History Channel never really failed him. After a few minutes he was
hearing all about the undiscovered relics littered across the Great
Plains left by Mezo-Americans.
A few
moment later and Matt was drifting back to sleep. The quiet intensity of the
narrator’s voice rocked Matt back to sleep like a lullaby and his chin dropped
to his chest. He dreamed of cowboys and sun baked deserts. He felt himself
carried along some dusty wagon trail through treacherous Indian
Territory . He had a rifle. He rode fast. It was always twilight or
dawn. Then the dream faded as Matt fell into a deeper sleep.
Matt opened
his eyes and took a long somewhat startled breath. He looked around him and
realized he was again on the couch. He looked over at the wall clock and it was
1:30 in the afternoon. The History Channel was still on, some show about how
aliens were building Aztec spaceships or something silly like that. Matt checked
his phone, to see if there were any calls he missed or e-mails, or messages.
Nothing. No one called, no one messaged him in any way. He put his phone down
and grabbed his Coke on the end table next to the couch. He took a quick sip.
“Damn it,”
he muttered to himself.
Matt put
his Coke down and stood up from the couch. He felt stiffness in his back
immediately from sleeping while sitting up. He stretched and reached up high
above his head. He grunted and moaned like aging men do whenever they attempt
some physical activity. Matt shuffled away from the couch and toward the
bathroom. It was about time to move some things around in there. He took his
phone with him because that’s what people do now. It seems perfectly acceptable
to check the social media outlets while sitting on the throne these days. Matt
remembered that he used to have magazines he took to the bathroom.
Once done
in the bathroom and caught up on the doings of all his Facebook and Twitter
friends Matt felt completely alone. No pokes, or messages, or likes or
anything. He looked out at his living room, so dusty and tired looking, and
wanted new furniture. He wanted a new set up and was tired of how the couches
sagged. He then blamed himself for the sagging since it was he who made them
that way. Matt shuffled through the living room and back into the kitchen. He
was hungry now but didn’t have much in the fridge to eat. He found a microwave
tuna casserole thing and decided that would have to do until dinner time.
Matt
thought about getting something else for dinner. He thought maybe he could find
the energy to go to the store and get his shopping done. He through about it
while his tuna got micro waved. Matt shuffled back toward the living room and
plopped back on the couch. He wasn’t leaving the house today.
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