Couchsurfing – at Home

Mi abuela is sick. Or, she was sick and ended up being hospitalized for about a week. Then, because she couldn’t take care of herself, she was moved into my parent’s house. More specifically, my bedroom.

Now I am sure to some of you this doesn’t sound so bad. Surrendering your bed to your sickly grandmother for a week. Of course, those of you who think that have never lived in my house. Neigh, have never spent a few hours in my house.  Because if you had you would know that there is constant commotion. People coming and going at all hours of the day, loud, overwhelming, often obnoxious people and, did I mention four dogs and a cat? And I am a person who likes her space. My parent’s home is a happy place if I have some where to hide away to . Somewhere away from the noise and the animals and the dog hair. (Because you see, I only allow one animal in my room, Hallie, and she does not shed.)

So then came the search to find a place to sleep. I tried the basement couch. I woke up, well more got up because I didn’t sleep, and I was more exhausted than when I went to couch, had a crick in my neck and I was covered in dog hair. The next night I found a home in Chieftain’s bed, which was relatively harmless. Then I moved to my older sister, Bekah”s house. Where again I found myself covered in dog hair, but not as much and thought I was away from the chaos until her boyfriend started blaring music at 3 o’clock in the morning. Then his parents came into town. I got booted back to my parents. Back to Chieftain’s bed again. Then back to Bekah’s house for a solid week I’d say. Trouble is that they are remodeling their house and the door to the bathroom doesn’t close, nor is there a functional kitchen. So then I found my way to the couch in my parent’s sitting room where the blanket I used was, again, covered in dog hair.

Tonite it appears I will finally be able to return to my own bed. As my Mother all but forced my Nan to go home. I say forced because my Nan was quite unwilling and, indeed, tears were shed. And I can finally hide my computer from the curious fingers of family members, store my guitar so no one can paint it green, and keep my clothes and my body and myself securely away from hairs aside from my own.

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