Dream a Little Dream


Dream a Little Dream
Dream a Little Dream

Sunday night as Red Beard and I were getting ready to go to sleep, he told me, “You know how I usually sleep at the very edge of the bed? Well, I must not be sleeping that well because I’m so tired all the time. I think it might help if you just scoot over about two inches towards your side of the bed, and then I’ll have a little more room.”

So that’s what I did. I woke up a few times when I smacked into my nightstand, which is flush against the bed. I thought, “I’ll just move it over. Or maybe I’ll get used to it. Whatever.”

Last night though? When my legs and arms would fall off the edge of the bed and I would feel like I was clinging to the side for dear life? Yeah. Um. The new system has failed me. I want my two inches back. Except now I’m keenly aware of how Red Beard’s felt all this time, boxed into his corner of the bed, and I would feel guilty grappling for space.

Although guilt aside, I’m afraid my instincts might just take over in this fight for survival. In fact, I think that every night before we go to sleep, it’s only fair that we wrestle each other to see who gets to sleep in the middle of the bed, and who gets to hang off the side. I’m scrappy, so I think I could hold my own in our fight for an extra two inches of bed space. Or maybe we could take turns sleeping in the bed, while the other hangs upside down in the closet with his or her knees hooked over the clothes bar.

We really need a king-size bed. We’ve never argued that point. But I think we’ve always considered it a “some day” fantasy, like when we’ve finally bought a new condo and gotten all moved in and settled. Currently, we would have to cram such a huge thing into our bedroom. It may result in a ridiculous lack of space to harbor the luxury. So now I guess we’ll engage in this little space tug-of-war over a matter of a few inches in our queen-sized bed.

I’m tired. I can hardly function at work. I don’t feel right. I’m relying on energy drinks during the day to keep myself vertical, even though I’m in that state of, “The lights are on, but nobody’s home.” I would happily give up my night stand for a bigger bed if it came down to it. Hell, I would give my left boob for a bigger bed right now.

Today I emailed Red Beard the specs to both California and Eastern king-size beds. I think we should get out a tape measure tonight, figure out how this thing is going to fit in our bedroom, however awkwardly, and order the damn thing tomorrow.

I know part of the problem is that I don’t go to bed early enough anyway. If I would go to bed at 10 when I’m supposed to, this wouldn’t be such a big, dramatic and inflated problem. But if we could have a quiet night’s sleep in a roomy, soft and tranquil NASA memory foam bed, I probably wouldn’t need to get into bed so early to get enough sleep.

Today I've been looking online at beds like a pervert in his mother's basement drools over porn. Here’s my fantasy bed. I doubt we could afford the monstrosity. We’ll probably go with the low-end model instead, but I can dream. Well, I’ll dream when we get our new jumbo bed, anyway.

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