CELIA DRUMMOND
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Riding the Emotional Roller Coaster

4/16/2019

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We've got one of those couches from Freedom, I don't know, are they called "Modular"? Anyhow, they're the ones that people can perch on the arm kind of awkwardly pretending like they're comfortable; cats can stretch out and survey their apartment manor.  My cat does anyway.
 
The other day I was about to put my beer glass (full of Mornington Peninsula's delightful Nitro Dogs Bollocks) down on said arm, when I saw a gross pattern of beer glass-soaked stains.
 
"Sheesh! Where are my coasters? Why aren't we using coasters on our precious Modular couch?!" I opened the cupboard, the cupboard where I keep my collection of coasters. Coasters fell out. Many, many, many coasters. Little Creatures. Corona. Mountain Goat. Blackhearts & Sparrows.  BeerDeluxe. It was like that clown car where all those clowns you know can't possibly fit in that small tiny space somehow fit and spill out when the door opens.

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    Riding The Emotional Roller Coaster
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