Today in the wake of my morning day-job duties, I experienced utter Productivity Fail. Didn’t get a single sentence of writing done, nope. Made a brief jaunt to the grocery store and got junk food upon which to snack. Fawned over the new bedding, then went out to buy sheets to match it. Got home and made some paperdolls.
Wait. Did I mention the new bed here yet?
I don’t think I did. I’ve been talking it up over on Twitter, but heretofore I haven’t gotten around to importing that fine bit of domestic news over here. Well then. Let it be uttered, and with joy: Over the weekend, the husband and I went shopping for a new bed; we found one we liked, on sale enough to justify the expense/investment; and we bought it. The bed sleeps like a dream. I used to pile a bunch of pillows up around myself — behind my knees, propped under my neck, one to hug across my chest, etcetera … but no more. Now I sleep like a normal person, for the relative value of normal that requires a fuzzy red eye-mask and a nightstand covered with sinus meds, tissues, and a tiny stuffed beanie lion.
Anyway, because we had a hell of a time locating suitable bedding upon which we could agree and/or afford, before the mattress/boxsprings arrived I turned my considerable bargain-finding skills to the internet — and eventually to Macy’s, where I found a very nice set of bedding for approximately 1/3 of its original cost, and lo, it was delivered today. I did a little dance, unpacked it, and discovered that it included (a). giant square “European” pillow shams in addition to the standard shams (which gave me very strange thoughts about the heads of Europeans), and (b). no sheets, which I’d technically known, but had forgotten in my spending spree glee.
Since my pimp-tastic gold-on-gold-striped sheets would look sort of terrifying with the new bedding (but looked NOLA-bordello/serial-killer chic with the former red velvet quilt and its accoutrements), I fixed the trim shade in my head and went to Target in search of matching sheets, and I think I did a pretty damn good job of matching them up. Go on. Look, if you don’t believe me.
And no cracks about the wrinkly pillow cases. I’ve never ironed a pillow case in my life, and I’m not about to start now.
So, there you go. I have a new bed and I am thrilled with it, even though we jettisoned the headboard/footboard of the previous installation.
Why would we forgo a headboard or footboard, you ask? Because our apartment building was erected in the 19-teens, when full-sized beds were pretty much the biggest beds anyone owned … and when bedrooms were built to hold that bed, and basically nothing else. Previously, with the headboard/footer frame, we had approximately 3-1/2 inches of clearance space between the foot of the bed and the wall. Now, having done away with the excess, we have a solid 9 inches of space.
This is huge for me.
It means that I CAN WALK AROUND MY BED. For the first time since we moved in here.
It also means that, in the middle of the night, my husband no longer has to wake up enough to retract his feet like a set of landing gear, lest I stomp upon them and break an ankle (his, or mine) on my way to the bathroom. Because it’s not like I can see for shit under the best of circumstances, and Lord knows I’ve tripped over his shins more times than I can count.
BUT NO MORE. Now I flop out of bed and stagger around in the dark like a civilized person. Huzzah!
And also, since this came up on Twitter, it’s worth pointing out that there’s a very good reason that the bed is placed as it is, rather than running the length of the room: It’s because the room is tiny. Crazy tiny. And although technically the bed (which is a queen) would fit that way, and would hypothetically give us a thin line of floorspace around the edges, it would also mean that the 2 chests of drawers we own would have to sit in the hallway. Literally. If we ever wanted to, like, you know. Open them.
To give you some frame of reference, I took this picture from the doorway. No, that’s not a trick of perspective. (The second chest of drawers is immediately to the left, at the edge of the closet, out of frame.)
Mind you, I don’t really care about the tiny bedroom. It’s cozy, and very quiet, and the only dark part of the apartment — and honestly, I’d rather have the square footage doled out elsewhere, which it is. This is the largest apartment in which I personally have ever lived as an adult, and I don’t hold the narrow sleeping quarters against it.
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Okay. I promise I’m done talking about my bedding now, and will get back to work writing (after I make myself some supper; you wouldn’t begrudge me supper, would you?). But first, for those of you who are still scratching your heads about that “paperdolls” comment, I give you a tiny preview. Just click the jump below.
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