Chuck Schneekloth, Jr.

Writing Assignment #1

It finally came today.

Since I entered this small town, I've felt pressure from my students. Along with

asking many thoughtful questions such as, "Are we in October right now?" gossip is also a big part of their lives, and this issue has been a hot issue for months in my classes. The new teacher and his new ways need reform! The pressure had finally overwhelmed me. I finally gave in. And hence, after eight months, it finally arrived: furniture.

So now I began a new life?a life with a couch in my living room. At first, it was no big deal. In fact, it was initially a source of concern: the bad omens were everywhere. It clashed with my one other living room decoration, my computer. It wouldn't fit through my door?and when it finally did, it bent my key backwards that peacefully was resting in the keyhole. In an act of desperation, I bent the key back to normal?and it instantly snapped, leaving the entire head stuck in the hole. Cursing the whole time, I spent the next twenty minutes on my knees using an object whose name has intrigued me for years: "tweezers." Yes, at this time it was official: this was one event to cross off the list of potential "personal experiences" to write about for my summer writing class.

However, life is full of unexpected twists. The first that day came upon checking my answering machine: the dinner date I had been looking forward to all week just canceled. Shocked I staggered a bit, and, realizing the new opportunity that was before me, I fell?on my new couch. This was the second unexpected surprise that this day had offered.

Upset over this shocking turn of events, and realizing I now had to fend for myself and "cook" dinner, I began to think about the greater issue at hand: I'm lying on a couch! Not immediately comprehending the greater importance of this moment, I began pondering what this meant. The list was choppy and random at first: slightly less floor to vacuum, a cleaner place to stack dirty clothes, three new cracks in which to lose things. Twinging at the thought of my keys disappearing to yet another black hole, I began to focus more on the benefits of this object; it was at this glorious time I realized my life at Seaside had suddenly evolved from B.C. (before couch) to A.C. (after couch). This was very exciting.

Adjusting my legs so they comfortably dangled, it became clear what a new role this couch would now take on in my life. What numerous epiphanies would occur here! The first one arrived quickly and clearly: this living room is disgusting! Never before had I spent much time in this room, simply because: 1. It's where I pile all my junk, and 2. There's no furniture to sit on! However, after moments of careful observation and delicate introspection, I soon realized that I am the messiest person I know. This would never have occurred without the existence of this couch. The advantages just kept surfacing to my mind, such as I could now invite people over to talk, and say, "Here, have a seat on my couch." Or better yet, I could slide it into conversation with others as a subtle status symbol, "You know Chris, I was thinking about those CIM tasks last night while sitting on my couch." The benefits seemed endless.

If anything else, it just gives my apartment personality. In addition, I know have a place to talk on the phone, eat dinner, grade papers, admire the towering pile of dirty dishes in my sink, and read a good book. This couch truly has made today a special day. Now only if my dinner date would return my phone call.