There's something inherently wrong with sleeping in a bed that is three inches shorter than you are. Last night I lay staring at the ceiling while the soft roar of the heating vent cleared my mind and allowed for some deep thinking. I was awake for a reason - it was one of those awful nights where you can't seem to find a comfortable position in bed.
I started pondering seriously about beds. What would my life be like if I had a better bed? Was my back being screwed up by the crappiness of the beds I've slept in for the past few years? What would my sleep number be if I bought one of those newfangled adjust-o-beds? Then, for no apparent reason, I started drawing an invisible faucet on the wall with my finger. Why? Your guess is as good as mine. In fact, I vividly remember thinking "What the hell am I drawing a faucet for?" I was really tired, and pretty mad, but my pondering on beds only grew deeper.
I remember walking into one apartment for the first time a few years back and seeing little spiders scurry around on my bed, into little webbed shelters they had built. I remember thinking "I can't sleep here. A) I'm not sleeping in a spider infested bed and B) Their little spidertropolis, while somewhat horrifying, is actually quite impressive. Such a lilliputian feat should not be destroyed." However, that night, in a fit of tired rage, I destroyed their little city. I slept in that bed. And I had many recurring nightmares of spiders crawling all over me.
On my mission I slept in a bed that wasn't built very well. The boards underneath the bed would give away in the middle of the night, creating a noise not unlike gunshots. Imagine falling out of your peaceful slumber to the sound of a large bang. You scream with fear and then your companion does the same, but since you were still asleep when you screamed, you only hear your companions scream and wonder if he was shot. Then you realize you're on the floor, and you wonder if you were shot. Then you just rebuild your bed. One more skill you learn on your mission.
The bed I slept in growing up (since age 13 at least) is large and spacious. It's perfect. On the rare occasion when I sleep at my parent's house, in my bed, I enjoy a night of perfect chiropractic harmony and the world, for one brief moment is set as straight as my spine. It just seems that nowadays, those moments don't come often enough. And with a bed now that does as much good for my back as a low-impact fender bender, I am left to dream of a better bed.