A Dignified Friday Night Broadcast
I walked back through the front door from the hardware store, kicked off my outdoor dust, and marched straight into the living room. It was twenty-to-ten on a Friday night, and after a week of perpetual straightening, I refused to lift another finger. I climbed up the corduroy hem of the sofa, shoved past the armrest, and found the television remote control already lying completely flat and squared parallel to the seam. Absolute perfection. I sat right down against the back cushion, stretched my brown boots out across the ribbed fabric, and let the late-night documentary roll. Uninterrupted leisure has finally commenced.

