Between the Sheets
We're back in Seattle, packing. And by "packing," I of course mean "doing laundry, running errands, reading blogs, and obsessing about all the things we have to do in the next three weeks."
Today I came back from the car wash, where I'd been getting the cat-pee shampooed out of White Car, and our bed was gone. The Renaissance Woman put it on Craigslist this morning and had something like fifty calls by the time I came home.
I shouldn't have been surprised, because RW mentioned freecycling the bed last night. But then again she also mentioned about seventeen thousand other things she's worried about and/or planning on getting done, so the bed thing didn't stick in my head particularly. I think she said something about having room to stack the boxes in there once the bed was gone. And this is indeed the case; there is lots of room to stack the boxes. I keep thinking "Oh, I'm so sleepy, maybe I'll lie down for a few minutes." But when I walk into the bedroom all there is is an empty floor and a computer bag. It's spooky.
It was a pretty small bed, and not the most comfortable lately. Our bedroom here is about the size of a wallet, so a double bed was all we could shoehorn in, and even so, one person had to sleep next to the wall.
Still, I was sad to see it go. I'm not as sentimental as the Mermaid Girl, who weeps whenever we sell a car and who had a full-blown tantrum the other day when RW freecycled the saggy old couch, but that bed has been the Main Bed of RW's and my relationship, and I was fond of it.
RW had the bed already when we first got together. One morning a few weeks later we were just lying there--"not doing anything!" I protested repeatedly (and truthfully), later, to her roommate and to anyone who would listen--when, WHOMP! we were on the floor. The bed base had fallen right out of the frame. It was an IKEA bed and I guess had never been put together properly. RW's kind and handy roommate nailed it back together the next day, and it never dumped us on the floor again.
Tonight I'll be sleeping in the attic, like a V.C. Andrews heroine. We already have a queen-size mattress up at the new place; I hauled it there myself last week. When we get settled we will buy a queen sized bed to put it in. And if it falls apart on us I will just laugh, and laugh, and laugh.
Today I came back from the car wash, where I'd been getting the cat-pee shampooed out of White Car, and our bed was gone. The Renaissance Woman put it on Craigslist this morning and had something like fifty calls by the time I came home.
I shouldn't have been surprised, because RW mentioned freecycling the bed last night. But then again she also mentioned about seventeen thousand other things she's worried about and/or planning on getting done, so the bed thing didn't stick in my head particularly. I think she said something about having room to stack the boxes in there once the bed was gone. And this is indeed the case; there is lots of room to stack the boxes. I keep thinking "Oh, I'm so sleepy, maybe I'll lie down for a few minutes." But when I walk into the bedroom all there is is an empty floor and a computer bag. It's spooky.
It was a pretty small bed, and not the most comfortable lately. Our bedroom here is about the size of a wallet, so a double bed was all we could shoehorn in, and even so, one person had to sleep next to the wall.
Still, I was sad to see it go. I'm not as sentimental as the Mermaid Girl, who weeps whenever we sell a car and who had a full-blown tantrum the other day when RW freecycled the saggy old couch, but that bed has been the Main Bed of RW's and my relationship, and I was fond of it.
RW had the bed already when we first got together. One morning a few weeks later we were just lying there--"not doing anything!" I protested repeatedly (and truthfully), later, to her roommate and to anyone who would listen--when, WHOMP! we were on the floor. The bed base had fallen right out of the frame. It was an IKEA bed and I guess had never been put together properly. RW's kind and handy roommate nailed it back together the next day, and it never dumped us on the floor again.
Tonight I'll be sleeping in the attic, like a V.C. Andrews heroine. We already have a queen-size mattress up at the new place; I hauled it there myself last week. When we get settled we will buy a queen sized bed to put it in. And if it falls apart on us I will just laugh, and laugh, and laugh.
posted by elswhere | 8:22 PM
1 Comments:
The bed went WHOMP because someone at Ikea had put in all the staples backwards. Kind & Handy Roommate kindly explained this to me when she put it back together, with staples in the right way.
- Renaissance Woman
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