Bedroom Sweet

My mother moved the furniture when she no longer moved the man. The Story (The Angel in The House)

A few days ago I moved my bed back to where it was before S moved in. I don't know exactly what it was  that drove me to change it other than that I had to move it over for the satellite guy* to string cable through the wall which led me to clean under the bed which got me to thinking how much space that bulky headboard takes up which made me decide to give it to J which eventually led me to put the bed back against the east wall. As soon as I crawled under the covers that night, I felt more at home. I don't know all that much about feng shui (other than the crap stored under the bed is probably extreme funky shui) but I do know I slept like a drunk on payday that night and have nearly every night since.

As much as I enjoy snuggling with my snugglee, there's something about reclaiming one's space that feels almost bulimic--as though you've been stuffed with all these extra shoulds and hold-backs and then suddenly you just let it all out, take up every inch of the room with your own breath. For the first time in months (or years) you relax into the Who of You and it feels so damn good you laugh for laughing's sake until your kid hollers from the next room, asking what's so funny, which only makes you laugh harder.

In the middle of a recent night I turned over and reached across the bed, forgetting the wide open space of a frog on a queen sized lily pad. I pulled his my other pillow closer, then stretched myself diagonally across the great mattress, planting a toe in the furthest corner like a flagpole on an unclaimed planet. As I nestled back into the web of come-dreaming, I felt something tiny and rough against my thigh. In the netherworld of slow-moving limbs, I plucked a sunflower seed shell from beneath the covers and tossed it aside. As I fell back asleep I smiled the wide smile of cotton-breathed comfort on the threshold of full-blown contentment.

* I killed our TV in March and haven't missed it. J apparently has, as he's paying for it himself out of meager Subway wages.

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Comments

[Sue Richards]

Ellie of the East,

Funny thing beds. I too sleep kitty-corner so that my feet can hang over the side with my toes pointing straight down. I must line myself up with the North Pole or suffer the toss-turn-rotation of my misaligned magnetic core.

No sunflower seeds between my sheets. But I did discover a very melted chocolate chip on my butt on morning.

Sue of the North

[ellie]

I don't think a chocolate chip would ever get away from me. ;-)

Yes on the pointing toes. Sure would be nice if they were curled now and again. heh

[jonna]

The older I get the more downright cranky I get about my space -- especially the bedroom. I am newly re-married and find sharing the bed the hardest thing ever...I want darkness, silence and the barest of covers (thank you menopause). He wants the tv in the background, and is a night owl. It has nearly driven me around the bend at times.