8/1

I think I’ve figured out why there’s not a Make a Wish Foundation for adults. Because we would have the most boring requests. Kids are like:

Kids 1: I want to go to Disney World!

Kid 2: I want to go to Space Camp!

Meanwhile I’m like:

Davey: I want this Keegan Sectional 2 Piece Sectional from Macy’s.

Make a Wish: Really? That’s what you want?

Davey: Yep. It’s on sale.

Make a Wish: You do know we are called make a wish, right? Like whatever you want we can make happen.

Davey: I mean… a couple of throw pillows would be nice?

Make a Wish: You’re lame.

End of Play.

The weird thing about having cancer, is that you still have other problems too. Bills don’t just go away. Deadlines don’t just go away. The need for furniture doesn’t just go away.

This is all to say I need to buy a couch. Our old one couldn’t make the move and now we’ve been in our apartment for over a week and all we have in our living room are two folding chairs. And let me tell you, it’s hard to make a move on your girlfriend when you’re sitting in folding chairs. I reach over, go in for the kiss and she’s like, “We are sitting on folding chairs.” And I’m like, “Yeah you're right.”

I’ve tried to convince myself that we don’t need a couch. That sitting on the bed is just as good. I mean, if it’s good enough for sleeping then it’s good enough for sitting. Right? But then Jaimie reminds me that we don’t have a bed frame either and that dream goes away too.

This situation reminded me of a story I heard about my grandfather. Apparently every time you complained about something hurting, he would pull you ear. When you said “Ouch,” he would say, “Well now you’re now thinking about your toothache!”

Not that I endorse that kind of behavior, but I thought about that story while I was pricing couches online. Worrying about how I’m going to afford a couch is a luxury problem. If that is on my mind then it must mean that my scans are good and I’m handling the treatment well. Besides, six months ago I had a couch. While I was laying on it I would bury my face into the cushion and scream my stomach hurt so badly. Trust me, I’d rather be where I am today.

I recently heard someone say, “If money can solve your problem, it ain’t a problem.”

So I am truly thankful that I am healthy enough to be worried about not having a couch. Not only that, the time without one will make the time with one that much more enjoyable.

And after a couple of weeks of trying to make out with my girlfriend while sitting on milk crates, getting her to kiss me on a sofa will be a piece of cake.