Note: I wrote about this problem two and a half years ago. The foam is already soft again. Where’s my fucking rock?!!!!
So I have this fabulous couch that is amazing except for the fact that I am already griping that I need foam cushion replacements to sit on and it is less than three years old. The Hubster assures me that I have a super low tolerance for any softening of any item in the entire world.
Case in point:
We bought the world’s firmest mattress and within half the life of it I was whining that it was too squishy and was hurting me as I slowly drowned into it like a Freddy Kruger movie come to life. And the poor Hubster said he was just breaking it in and getting comfortable.
We then bought our new mattress which you have to rotate in a circle every six months to ensure that one person doesn’t wear out one side while the other person is living it up on the other side. I make the Hubster rotate it every other month because I feel like I am dying a slow, miserable death where Unicorns and glitter come to life and shank you.
Which is an unpleasant way to die, in my opinion.
Hubster also pointed out that I refuse to sit on our couch in the man room due to the tilting of the world on its axis when you try to sit upright. Jason says he can sit up just fine, meanwhile I’m in a prone position wondering why foam hates me so much.
What makes this whole situation sad is that I even project my dislike of foam onto Lola. While ordering custom foam for my couch I decided to order a replacement foam cushion for Lola’s chair. Why? Because it looked squishy and she hasn’t been sitting on it enough recently so she must hate the squishy.
Conclusion, I need to sit on a rock. It’s the only solution. And maybe Lola needs to join me.
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