|A woman can dream, can't she?|
So what I have now is a brand new queen-sized mattress lying on the floor of my bedroom, flanked by 2 nightstands I bought for 25 dollars at a thrift store 18 years ago. It wasn't easy to get to this point, people. I had to go to the mattress store and try out the different beds, with 3 children in tow. I had to get over sticker shock. (1000 dollars? Really?)
And finally, today, the guys were coming to pick up the old mattress and box springs and deliver the new. Which meant that I had to shovel out all the crap that has been accumulating in my bedroom since 2007. I can't even blame Larry, since he doesn't happen to be the person in this marriage who has half-finished projects and abandoned crafting supplies piled up in every available corner.
Look, it was an awful day. By the end, I managed to clear out the main bedroom area by piling everything else into the (no longer) walk-in closet AND completely blocking the entrance thereof. Also? There are now boxes of photos in the master bathroom.
On the plus side, I finally got around to moving Larry's dresser into the little alcove across from the master bath. That dresser creeps me out because it makes weird sounds on cold nights. And it's ugly.
So! Larry gets home (late) tonight. I'm lying in our freshly made-up bed (on the floor), testing it out. He lies down, too. "What do you think?" I ask.
"It's too soft."
I'll give him credit - he looked nervous when he said it.
But the worst part? He's right.