This one is for everyone out there who has ever been pushed off the edge of the bed (or smooshed into the wall) in the middle of the night. This is for everyone who has woken up, freezing cold, to find the covers have been covertly stolen from them while they slumbered. This is for… well just about anyone who’s ever shared a bed, now isn’t it?
When my ex and I were still dating, we shared a mattress that was 100% not made for two people, so we decided to adult and buy a new bed! Okay, it wasn’t a bed exactly; it was a crappy futon from Canadian Tire, but at least it was an upgrade in size. We thought it was perfectly sound logic: buy something bigger, and we’ll both have more space.
Here’s how that logic panned out:
Dear anyone that says women always hog the bed, my pillow is to the left and I hardly got half of it most nights. Anyone who has suffered this fate knows it is as uncomfortable as it looks.
As time went on, the futon mattress, if you can really call it that, grew flat, the metal bars it laid on, weakened and bowed under our weight. We got married and ended up with enough wedding money to buy a new bed. It was a dream come true! An actual bed; queen size, pillow top, box spring, the whole kit and caboodle! It was like sleeping on a cloud and I suffered sleepless nights no longer. When we separated, I got to keep the bed (he got the dresser, so I think I won). I enjoyed my queen-sized cloud so much when I had to share it, so it should be even better now, right?
Wrong (Wow, I’m bad at this logic thing).
I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for these four little snots.
Well, them, books, and laundry. It seems single life has me smooshed to the wall as well. Even on the nights I get around to cleaning my room (I do have an excuse for being messy!), when my books are neatly stacked on my bedside table and my laundry is finally put away, I’m still stuck laying horizontally across the bed, my feet dangling off the side.
While those adorable fluff balls above may each be the size of a small New York sewer rat, and collectively weigh 20lbs sopping wet, they have a knack for sleeping in the most spread-out, inconvenient ways. And yet, even though I clearly now need a California King bed, I sleep like a baby! The bed may be too small, but at least I get puppy cuddles.
Gen Taggart was born and raised in the city fun forgot. She has what's probably an unhealthy obsession with Doctor Who and is a hoarder of notebooks full of half-finished short stories and tattoo ideas. When not jotting down ideas for the next bestseller or trying to navigate the complexities of being single, she can often be found cuddling with her dogs and binging on Netflix.