The couch in the living room was starting to break down. I felt my couch sag when I sat down. The sturdy thing was actually dying on me after all these years.
"It's time to get a new one," I told Paul. "We'll have to throw this one away." He agreed after testing the couch himself. I knew he too was a little dismayed. He was quite fond of it. He spent many precious moments after work on the couch relaxing in front of the television and reading his books. We've spent almost seven years with our couch. I moved it over when I started to cohabit with Paul about five years ago. Now it was going to turn into junk.
"Do you want to get an Ikea couch? Paul asked.
I nodded. Almost simultaneously, we both took out our organizers - his palm pilot and my filofax, and started to look through the calendar for a free day. We settled for Tuesday.
I know there is a certain sense of pathos to our current situation, but I can't think of any other way to function. Both of us were successful, ambitious young executives and we both agreed that neither of us would get in the way of the other's career. I don't think we have lost any love between us. When we are sleeping in our bed we hold each other. We still have good sex. We just make sure that we are not worn out if we have a presentation or a major assignment due the next day.