I’m still in Leicester! Furthermore, I’m being held here against my will…
Earlier today I purged the house of 99% of my worldy possessions, with the help of my aunt, her fella, and their Volvo. Sofa so good. I, myself, was also supposed to accompany this menagerie of people and objects back up to York.
However, there are also two awesome leather sofas in my house. They were given to us by our lettings agency when they saw that our lounge was furnished with a lone deckchair, and a beanbag which bled little white bobbles every time someone sat on it, and the resulting spike in Lounging Quality (scientific term) sent my housemates and I into levels of comfort previously limited to only the wildest of furniture fantasies.
And so the issue arises of what to do with these big lumps of ex-cow, now that I’m moving. I couldn’t leave them for the next tenants to take advantage of, after all – that would just be wrong – but neither do I yet have anywhere in York to relocate them to. A solution for now is that I’m going to have to stay in Leicester ’til Monday, and rent out some storage space to stick them in until the time comes where I will either need them to furnish my new place, or take them to market and trade them for magic beans.
To protect the sofa’s identity, an actor has been used in this recreation