What is it about sleeping in your own bed?
We slept well enough in Toronto. Clyde, who normally wakes very early, slept much longer and later than usual. Still, last night’s respite on our own mattress refreshed me in ways no overnight at a hotel can.
The pillows were exactly the right height and thickness. The electric padding kept the bed at precisely the right temperature. Instead of the herky-jerky tossing and turning that often involves unfortunate contact between elbows and eyeballs, our sleep movements were perfectly choreographed.
Even the little annoyances — the occasional yowl of a cat, the tinkling of a bell on a collar during various nocturnal exercises — are somehow reassuring, especially after the sterile nighttime silence of the Courtyard by Marriott.
So, this morning, I thank God for a simple pleasure: another cozy night with my own partner, spent in my own warm bed.
so the question is: is our own bed perfect because we perfectly designed the setup? or just because we’re used to our own half-assed setup?
so the question is: is our own bed perfect because we perfectly designed the setup? or just because we’re used to our own half-assed setup?