Man and couch

What is the attraction of man to couch? How many men wouldn't rather just fall asleep on the couch? Who has not gone crashing through the supergravity of sleep interrupted, belatedly finding his way to a mattress in the small hours of the morning?

It seems to have little to do with lifetime. And even less to do with whether someone's waiting in the guy's bed or not, unless that person is only freshly acquainted with the bed. Laziness?

There's something imperative about that couch. Something that seems so much more right than going to bed. Going to bed is subordinate, it's unmanly.

What is man, then, as he rides drifting on the couch past bonds of wakeful responsibility? Is he the hunter-gatherer at play in the fields of his subsistence? The laboring man, exhausted, still trying to produce, perform? Or bourgeois man, futilely fighting the infantilization he has embraced?

I'll be going to sleep now. Good night and god bless.