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When we first got the keys to our apartment on Louther St. I was not very impressed. Sure our living room was large, and there were lots of seating options, but it was not anything glamorous. Despite this first impression, my roommates have helped to make our unique space feel like home through different odds and ends we have acquired throughout the year. One such piece is the least comfortable futon I have ever experienced in my life.

When I say this thing is uncomfortable, I mean that if I happen to fall asleep on it for an extended period of time I often wake up as sore as if I had maxed out at the gym the day before. When my boyfriend comes up to visit, he often prefers the hardwood floors to the bars of the futon sticking into his back.

Even though I sometimes lose feeling in my rear end from sitting on such a painful surface, this futon is where I do my best reading. I feel like the only place on campus that I can actually focus on a text is while I am perched atop this metal frame with very limited cushioning. I have been conducting all of my copious amounts of thesis research from this futon, and I was really able to connect with Virginia Woolf as I sat there, legs falling asleep from sitting on such a hard piece of seating.

While we might have a love/hate relationship, the futon and I, it has been claimed as my own. None of my roommates ever do work on it, probably because the couch is so much more comfortable. But I think the fact that it has been left to me has helped to foster my affinity toward this metal piece of furniture.

Some may prefer the library, or a cozy arm chair, but to me the futon is my safe space where I can get lost in research, homework or reading for enjoyment when I find the time. It is conveniently situated between my thesis bookshelf (yes, I have a set of shelves dedicated solely to books from the library for my thesis) and a set of drawers I can place my coffee on top of. If someone else were to take this space away, my whole academic drive I feel would unravel. Perhaps it is the fact that it is literally putting me outside of my comfort zone, and therefore I feel I can do the same in my studies. But regardless, metal bars and all, that futon and I have become quite close this year, and that is all right by me.


Comments



2 Comments so far

  1.    Claire Bowen on March 3, 2013 2:57 pm

    Someone (named Jessy!) should write a book on the rite of passage that is the uncomfortable futon… But there is certainly something to be said for reading (esp. thesis reading) somewhere that’s just uncomfy enough to keep you awake and alert. How about uncomfortable reading in more social and/or metaphorical senses.

    … Will the futon come with you when you leave Carlisle?

  2.    Emma Green on March 4, 2013 9:23 pm

    Hey Jessica! This is great. At first it made sense to me that you’d choose a less comfortable space to do your academic research and reading, but then at the end you mentioned that you have also found yourself choosing to sit on that posterior-offending futon to do pleasure reading! Also, you refer several times to the “metal bars” that are the key element of the futon and it seemed to me that this futon has become a sort of jail cell that (instead of confining you) protects you from and deflects potential distractions. Brilliant!

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