I broke my bed this weekend.
And before you all start in on the fat jokes or the
sexual innuendos, just listen to the story. The story in which 1. I am fat and 2. I hate physics and 3. No
sex takes place (so if that’s the kind of story you’re looking for, you know, don’t
waste your time).
Last Saturday night, Sister and I stayed up really late
at Sister-In-Law’s house. Sister-In-Law has been asked to play piano and lead
worship at an upcoming Christian ladies retreat. Sister-In-Law is nervous about
this because she’s only been playing piano for a little over a year, so Sister
went over to help figure out all the musical nuances and harmonies and compositions
and all those other musical things that I pretend to understand, but really I’m
just glad if I’m in the right key for more than 50% of the song. So. Sister
helped musically and I helped. Not at
all. But eventually, we realized that USUALLY when they sing, I get on a
computer and put together a media presentation. It’s how I compensate for my
faulty vocal cords. So Sister-In-Law handed me a computer and I went to town.
We were having fun singing. Oh, I was singing alright.
Not well, but I was still singing. And
then Brother came home. Now, Brother is an executive for a store that closes at
11:00 pm. So, if Brother is home after all of the closing duties and whatnot, it’s verrrrrrry
late. By the time we got home, it was way past my bedtime. This is all pretty
pointless setup to tell you that when I woke up on Sunday for church, I was
tired. Like: could-barely-force-myself-to-roll-out-of-my-bed-this-“getting-up”-concept-is-not-even-an-option
kind of tired. But I did. Because rolling out of bed would have caused some
pretty severe bodily harm. I managed to open my eyes long enough to find some clothes that didn't clash too badly.
And I went to church. We even got there a few minutes
before rehearsal. Sister and I high-fived. If you have met us, you understand what
a triumph this can be. I spent the next five hours working, running around, and
being “alert” which is something I would rather not be and so I put it in quotes.
After a rehearsal, two services, and endless socializing,
Sister and I headed home, since no one really wanted to go to lunch with us. We’re
pariahs or something. Okay, no. Not really. Brother and Sister-In-Law went to
her parents’ house. Mom and Dad had food in a crockpot that was not enough for
four. We don’t really have any other friends. Crap, we’re back to being
pariahs. Anyway, moving on.
[By this point, you’re
wondering why I’m telling you all of this and how the heck this relates to my
broken bed and my fatness and physics and why I’ve been gone for over a week
with no posts and barely a tweet and why this is the thing I’ve waited all this
time to tell you and I really have no answers except for this next part, so
listen up or you will have read almost five hundred words for nothing and that
would be a shame.]
We got home and determined that the TIRED completely
outweighed the HUNGRY. We decided to have a nap for lunch. Mmmm… yummy. I
wandered around the hallway between the bathroom and my bedroom, taking off my jewelry
and chatting at Sister, who had already made it into her bed because she is a
napping expert. There was a lull in
the conversation and I was ready for my nap, so I caled out, “Okay, well… I’m
crashing!” to let Sister know that I would be in my room with the door closed
in case she felt like continuing the conversation and talked and I wasn’t
there, which would result in her feeling silly and/or frustrated with my lack
of answer and nobody likes to feel that way, so I warned her.
Remember I yelled out “I’m crashing?” as in a
colloquialism for “laying down in my bed and going to sleep”? Well, Sister and
I are very literal people. So she yelled back, “3! 2! 1! CRASH!!!!” Hearing the
countdown and knowing intuitively where she was going with it, I timed my steps
to my bed to correspond and when she yelled “CRASH!!!!” I did. And so did my
I thought it would be more of a flop. I’ve flopped into
this bed before with no negative results. But I guess I was feeling exuberant
that day. Or more likely, my recent weight-gain combined with the angle of my
shoulder and also, you know, PHYSICS.
Long story (and I am aware of how needlessly looooooong this
story truly is) still pretty long, at least one, if not two slats, in my box
spring are busted. So now the mattress sags in the center of the one end.
Right after it happened, I tried laying there for a moment, praying I hadn't jsut broken it and also knowign that my head was lower than my feet. So, you know. That prayer was answered pretty quickly and with a resounding, "DUH!" I knew I would never
be able to sleep like that and that it might even mess up my back. BUT I NEEDED MY NAP! So I got
up, pulled the mattress off and spun the box spring around so that the
brokenness could live at the foot of the bed. I reassembled my bed, got back in,
and eventually napped.
So, I’m currently sleeping on a saggy kind of slope.
Which is bringing back all kinds of memories of when I lived with Crazy Boss Lady
in a rented furnished home owned by an octogenarian couple with heart issues—the
master bed was permanently propped at a 30 degree angle to help their blood
flow or something. I have no idea. I just know that, for about 90 nights last
year, I fell asleep in the normal sleeping position and woke up and the foot of
the bed and had to crawl my way back to my pillows at least three times a night.
This is not a great headspace to be in, let me tell you,
what with all the RAGE about my current boss and Crazy Boss Lady working down
the hall from me. I’m pretty much already LIVING on Memory Lane. Apprently now, I’m having
a block party.
Since the broken bed is the same one I slept on in high
school and was given to me when I moved out of my parents’ home and OH YEAH IT’S
A TWIN SIZE, I’ve been thinking of replacing it for a while now. But mattresses
are expensive and I would really like to own my own car before I buy a nicer
version (read: queen size) of something that I already have. AND? I bought agiant purple couch this summer. So there is no room in my bedroom for anything other
than a twin bed (unless I don’t mind living without bookshelves and a dresser
and I DO MIND). So why would I spend my money to replace something I already
have but don’t like WITH THE EXACT SAME THING?
Except that I am fat and physics sucks and I will
probably buy a new bed next week. The end.