And what does that make me?
Who am I?
What once was shelter from the rain is now challenging our very beings.
I can’t tell you if the ceiling is truly the roof or not. That is up for you to decide. Everyone’s journey toward a conclusion on this widely debated philosophical idea looks different. Your answer might come to you in a vision during the middle of the night.
Perhaps you’ll feel its chill down your spine in the middle of a summer’s day. Or maybe, like it did with Michael Jordan, the answer will escape your lips in front of a widely televised audience.
You: My couch has mysteriously disappeared.
One second I was sitting on my beloved couch, getting ready to go to the Duke game, and then I returned home to my apartment after rushing Franklin to find an empty space (and marks in the carpet left by the chair legs that looked as if someone had dragged the couch out suddenly, as if, hypothetically, they were in a sports-induced frenzy and felt the primal desire to burn a davenport in the streets) in my living room where my couch that my dear grandmother willed to me once sat.
My roommate acts like she doesn’t even notice that the priceless tête-à-tête that my grandparents received as a wedding present and brought over from their ancestral home in Sicily has disappeared.
Maybe she’s just as distraught as I am at having brought immense recamier-related shame upon so many generations of my family.
How can I replace this irreplaceable family heirloom that disappeared the same night as the Duke game?
YAFI:Have you considered Ikea?