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katiefooleryOn Thursday night of last week, I had occasion to be wide awake at half past two in the morning. This was due in no small measure to our bed and the decision it made to begin a slow process of completely falling apart and effectively disturbing my sleep.
There I was, blissfully asleep, when part of the rail that holds the slats in place parted company from the frame of the bed. As is my wont, I assume this was something to do with an on-going argument they had about whose turn it was to stay connected to whom. Presumably, the rail was no longer able to deal with this and decided to take matters into its own hands (or lack thereof). Viz., it didn’t want to be connected to anything any more and wished to become closer aquainted with the carpet.
So, cue a length of rail on the carpet, slats denying their allegiance to their own frame to join the rail in its act of insubordination and a Buneater on a distinct angle in her bed in the middle of the night.
My Timothy manhandled the mattress into the lounge room and we slept on the floor there, much to the bewilderment of Pickle. She decided to sleep on my dressing gown, which I’d thrown onto a chair.
The next day was a public holiday. My Timothy cleared out the broken bed frame whilst I made macaroni cheese for lucnh. We slept on the floor that night.
The day after, we went to Euroa to meet my parents, the Boy and the Sonia for a pre-Easter picnic and for the exchange of egg-shaped chocolate products. There was no time for visiting furniture stores. We slept on the floor that night.
The next day was likewise a public holiday but as it was also Easter, we were able to console our bedless selves by distracting them with chocolate. Once more, however, we slept on the floor that night.
The next day, being Monday, was also a public holiday but one in which furniture stores were open. We traipsed around. We tested mattresses. We hid from salespeople when we decided we didn’t want to buy their beds.
Then we found our perfect bed – a mattress and base ensemble that is comfortable and, more importantly, will allow me to watch my DVDs whilst lying in bed. Although I loved our old bed, it had a ridiculously high rail that precluded the possibility of sprawling oneself on the bed and languidly watching the television screen. Now I shall be able to do just that! Also, a good night’s sleep will be had afterwards.
On the down side, we had to wait for the ensemble to be ordered. Tonight will mark one week of sleeping on a mattress on the floor and waking up to a whinging back. In some cases, it also means waking up to a cat licking one’s face and grooming one’s hair, now that it’s so easy to reach me.
And then this happens: Melbourne’s biggest factory fire in ten years rips through... a mattress factory.
Why is it I suddenly feel doomed to sleep on a mattress on the bedroom floor for the rest of my life?
There I was, blissfully asleep, when part of the rail that holds the slats in place parted company from the frame of the bed. As is my wont, I assume this was something to do with an on-going argument they had about whose turn it was to stay connected to whom. Presumably, the rail was no longer able to deal with this and decided to take matters into its own hands (or lack thereof). Viz., it didn’t want to be connected to anything any more and wished to become closer aquainted with the carpet.
So, cue a length of rail on the carpet, slats denying their allegiance to their own frame to join the rail in its act of insubordination and a Buneater on a distinct angle in her bed in the middle of the night.
My Timothy manhandled the mattress into the lounge room and we slept on the floor there, much to the bewilderment of Pickle. She decided to sleep on my dressing gown, which I’d thrown onto a chair.
The next day was a public holiday. My Timothy cleared out the broken bed frame whilst I made macaroni cheese for lucnh. We slept on the floor that night.
The day after, we went to Euroa to meet my parents, the Boy and the Sonia for a pre-Easter picnic and for the exchange of egg-shaped chocolate products. There was no time for visiting furniture stores. We slept on the floor that night.
The next day was likewise a public holiday but as it was also Easter, we were able to console our bedless selves by distracting them with chocolate. Once more, however, we slept on the floor that night.
The next day, being Monday, was also a public holiday but one in which furniture stores were open. We traipsed around. We tested mattresses. We hid from salespeople when we decided we didn’t want to buy their beds.
Then we found our perfect bed – a mattress and base ensemble that is comfortable and, more importantly, will allow me to watch my DVDs whilst lying in bed. Although I loved our old bed, it had a ridiculously high rail that precluded the possibility of sprawling oneself on the bed and languidly watching the television screen. Now I shall be able to do just that! Also, a good night’s sleep will be had afterwards.
On the down side, we had to wait for the ensemble to be ordered. Tonight will mark one week of sleeping on a mattress on the floor and waking up to a whinging back. In some cases, it also means waking up to a cat licking one’s face and grooming one’s hair, now that it’s so easy to reach me.
And then this happens: Melbourne’s biggest factory fire in ten years rips through... a mattress factory.
Why is it I suddenly feel doomed to sleep on a mattress on the bedroom floor for the rest of my life?