The Futon From Hell

I’ve spent the last couple of days at our new house doing a bit of cleaning and preparing. There’s one room that will be an office/playstation room and it has to be ready first because I have to be able to work straight away. First job was to move the futon into the next room. Easier said than done. There was just no way I could see it happening. The door way just wasn’t big enough. I tried it open and closed, upright and on it’s side. And there’s no way to lock it open or closed so it just kept springing to the position you didn’t want it in. But I knew Kimba had moved it into the room so I rang her and said – how the hell did you get the futon into this room? And she said – it was a solid effort. At least now I know how all the dings got in the hallway wall.

So in the end I took it apart moved it then put it together again. Next came the mattress. That was even harder. Total dead weight. And because it wasn’t a stiff mattress it just kept folding and flopping to the ground. Didn’t help that Chicken Little was bouncing all over it at the same time. Imagine that you got about ten large dead bodies, stripped them naked, smeared them with grease, tied them together then tried to drag them around the house. Thats what it felt like to me. Not that I’ve done that before.

Once I’d moved it I had to sleep in it. Almost certainly the worst bed I’ve ever slept in. It was all bits of lumpy then bits of flat. But no lumpy where you wanted it. The only positive I could find in the situation was that I didn’t have to share it with Daz. Because over the years we’ve stayed in some awful beds at peoples places. Air beds that deflated, tiny sofa lounges, beds where you both roll into the middle.

And for such a small dog Chicken Little takes up a lot of the bed. So I was awake at 5.30 and she’s always ready for some action so we hit the streets to check out my new neighbourhood. She likes to keep the pace cranked up. When she’s not sniffing things that is. There is a lot of sniffing done.

Chicken Little sets the pace

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12 thoughts on “The Futon From Hell

    • Ha, she’s steppin’ out for sure. I took it with my phone while we were walking. It looks like we were flying though. Then I just upped the contrast to make it look better.

  1. “Imagine that you got about ten large dead bodies, stripped them naked, smeared them with grease, tied them together then tried to drag them around the house. Thats what it felt like to me. Not that I’ve done that before.”

    LOL! Maybe you haven’t tried to move a bunch of dead bodies, but that’s a good description of moving a futon.

    My futon frame is still lying in pieces on the floor. Nobody can figure out how to put it back together. And I had my futon boxed, so at least I can slide the box around. But I’m almost scared to let it out after that description of yours.

    Chicken Little looks so happy! Must like the new digs.

    • God yeah, don’t release it. They are very uncooperative beasts. I did think I might not be able to put it back together and I was going to take a photo but then I just got so damn cranky at it that I wouldn’t let it beat me like that. Anyway it didn’t fall to pieces when I slept on it. I’m looking forward to giving it away, or smashing it to pieces, when my bed gets there.

    • Yeah, who says you need a big fancy camera to capture the moment.

      Lol, futons. They are impossible. They’re like a cranky kid who doesn’t want to be helpful. Or a cat. We had a cat who was like a futon. As soon as you tried to pick him up he’d just go limp and drop to the ground. And even though he only weighed about 4 kilo’s he was almost impossible to pick up because he was all floppy and soft and it seemed at the time boneless. Kids do that as well. Just sort of implode when you try to pick them up.

  2. thanks for the mental imagery

    i had semi-similar problems with a sofabed. fortunately, I got the maintenance crew at my appt to say they wanted it and I just left it behind.

    • This thing has one more move left in it so I’ll do the same thing. The guys who want it can deal with it. The problem with old houses is that the doors are all small. They’re not designed for modern furniture. I’m worried now if we’ll get my king bed in there.

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