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If any of you have ever had to travel for business, then perhaps you might be able to share in my observations. I remember nights of sleeping in my own room, surrounded by soft 400+ count sheets, a soft pillow, and a warm comforter. I would sink into my not-too-soft/not-too-hard bed and happily drift off into dream land. Those days seemed so far way when I was faced with the room I had been secured for my travel.

I arrived late in the evening, checked in, and proceeded to my room. The walls had the predictably bad “art” on them and that rather stale smell, but I wasn’t expecting a whole lot to begin with. As I surveyed my room, my jaw dropped just a little as I was immediately reminded of my college days. Days I thought long behind me. There was a meager desk, empty bookshelf, and a single size bed in the middle of the room. Unmade. What awaited me was a a lump on the end of the naked bed. Upon inspection, the lump consisted of my sheets, towel, and a rather tattered looking hospital-type blanket. I thought they must be kidding, but apparently not. (And I guess I should be thankful since someone else didn’t even get that. They scrounged in the linen basket at the end of the hall, which turned out to be the used linens. Eww.)

So, I set out to make my bed, realizing quickly that the bottom sheet they gave me required that I was adept at yoga in order to actually make it fit the bed. With much effort, it finally went on, and I swear you could bounce a quarter off that thing…. if it weren’t for the fact that the bed was too soft and sagging in the middle from the undoubtably countless people that had to endure the same fate before me. And oh yeah… no alarm clock. I had to fumble around with my cell phone until I could find the alarm feature and figure out how to activate it.

I was tired, so I decided I’d jump in bed and get some rest. I’ve slept on the ground in a campsite, so how bad could the bed be? At 3:30 in the morning, staring at the ceiling, I could literally feel every spring in the mattress. I’m not saying I knew they were there, I mean I could feel the entire outline of each coil. I tried shifting to my side, to my stomach, to my back… nothing was comfortable. 6:00 AM was fast on its way, and after only 3 hours the night before, I was desperate for some Z’s. The most I could manage was maybe thirty minutes of sleep at a time, before I became so uncomfortable that I woke up and had to try to shift again. Bleary-eyed and practically comatose, I fumbled for my rapidly dying cellphone when it went off, although I apparently I shouldn’t have bothered setting it, since I was already up.

Why do I describe my uncomfortable tale of woe to you, dear reader? Because you need to appreciate that bed you have. You need to go bury your face in that wonderful pillow of yours, rolls around in sheets that don’t remove layers of skin every time you move, and relish the sweet happiness of a cushy bed where you can’t count how many individual coils your body is resting on. Enjoy that bed!!! Don’t take it for granted! Maybe show it the affection it deserves by putting fresh sheets on it with a fluffy comforter and yes…… stack it with pointless throw pillows…. even the men! Love your bed before you are forced to cheat on it with it’s bastard retarded trailer park step-cousin!

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