I have recently come to the realization that it’s time for me to properly enter adulthood and buy myself grown-up furniture not from Target or even from Ikea. The first step would be to say goodbye to my futon-type thing that I got four years ago the week preceding my start as a 1L. It was $75 and allowed me to not sit on the floor – It met all of my prime objectives at the time.

Fast forward four years and it’s still there in a different apartment in a different city. But still it remains. There are tons of reasons to get rid of it – not the least of which that it sucks as a sofa. Every person, my mom included, who’s been in my apartment has made some less-than-complimentary comment on that sofa. And it’s true, it actually hurts to sit on it for too long and is only really for laying down on; however, I think one of the things I liked so much about it was that if it didn’t mean much, then I could easily move on.


A sofa as a metaphor for my 20s.

For much of my 20s I’ve disliked the notion of investing much in a particular person or place. In fact, I prided myself in my ability to pick up and just leave. It’s how I randomly went to England, how I quit my job after college and went to live in China, and how I went to law school. Mainly on whims but largely because I could. And for much of my 20s? It was great. It was what I wanted.

I don’t know if it’s that I turn 30 in under 2 months; or if it’s that after 10 years of moving around I’m ready to stay still for a bit; or the recognition that if I ever want to settle down, date, and get married, the lady may think that a $75 couch by a 30 year-old is a bit indicative of overall unreliability. Or maybe I’m just tired of my back hurting when I sit down on the damn thing.

Or maybe it’s a bit of all of those reasons. Maybe it’s time to set down some roots and make something of a home for myself. Maybe it’s time to find something and someone that saying goodbye to is damn hard.