There are few things in the world that I love more than my bed.
Tucked right into the corner of my bedroom, underneath the window, in the dark, cozy, and quiet basement of my house, my bed is like a sanctuary. Free from the noise and the constant motion of the kitchen, far from the blaring television in the living room, and full of warmth and comfort, my bed is my favorite place in the house. There is nothing better then the feeling of being able to snuggle up under my comforter at the end of a long and tiring day. I ordered a Queen-size blanket for my double bed, on purpose, so it would be extra big and comfy, and I cocoon myself inside it like a caterpillar every night, with no intentions of emerging. I am far from a butterfly when the morning comes.
When my alarm goes off, I moan and groan, wishing I didn’t have to move. It’s not even the activities of the day that I dread; it’s just that I know it will be hours before I return home, into my bed’s warm and welcoming arms. Pillows thrown from top to bottom and soft, jersey-knitted sheets hugging the mattress make my bed fit for a princess. But a princess’s lifestyle might be too busy – she’d have feasts to enjoy and castle matters to attend to and royal subjects to please. And so my bed is all mine, crown on my head or not.
As much as I love the summer, and I hope that my days off from work are sunny and warm, sometimes I hope that I’ll wake up to thunderstorms, gray skies, and cool winds. Days I can stay in bed, covers tucked under my chin, hiding from the outside world and watching hours of reality television in my quiet little haven.
There are few things in the world I love more than my bed.
And there are few times I’d rather be there than a Monday afternoon.