Thursday, 7 April 2011
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151: RIGHT SIDE OF THE BED!
“People who say life is a bed of roses usually complain about
sleeping in thorns” Anon Swedish Saying
There is just one thing that is a
problem about being single.
“Just one?” I hear you cry… “Just how far
in denial are you Jax?”. But hear me out. Most problems are just challenges in
disguise and once you have that head on, it’s a case of problem what problem?
Being released from coupledom is an opportunity to be self supporting, self
aware… and a marvellous opportunity to be selfish for a while! After years of
putting someone else first it is life enhancing to be selfish and self
indulgent: You can eat what you want (no more offal based meals just cause he
likes liver and bacon!), take liberties with beauty regimes (who needs to wax
everything..all the time eh?), money doesn’t get directed onto to things you
don’t care for (no more supporting a petrol-heads fixation on Lamborghinis),
watch the movies you like (Oh no… how will Bruce Willis et al survive now you
aren’t welded in a cinema seat every time an explosion fest is released). It’s
pretty rewarding to be realise that you can stand on your own two feet… and it
is great fun to indulge yourself. Problem what problem?
But there is just
one problem.
A huge problem.
Actual measurements…. 108 x 102
inches.
Yep… the bed.
When I bought my bed, I had a whole different
set of priorities. I was buying a place to in which I could gain cuddles,
comfort, closeness, intimacy and human warmth. Oh yeah and somewhere big enough
to spin like a top should the tantric moments allow. Once purchased my use of it
was also dominated by my relationship. I had a side. I took the side farthest
from the bedroom door. The occupant of the other side was almost a barrier
between me and anything dangerous that may lurk the other side of the door
whilst we snoozed. (Funny really as the only dangerous thing would be one of our
angry cats and even wimpy old moi could have handled that!) I knew what side of
the bed I was getting out in the morning.
It’s very important to get out
of the right side of the bed in the morning.
Starting your days knowing
that you are not compounding years of an unsatisfactory relationship with yet
another 24hrs is a VERY positive thing. The slate is clean and the possibilities
are endless. Until you try to fall asleep after another self supporting, self
aware, self indulgent and slightly selfish day… and the big empty space on the
other side of the bed reminds you that you are so alone. However there is an
easy remedy… sleep in the middle.
Which is fine until you wake up the
next morning with a graphic reminder that you are starting another day… alone.
. Because the thing about sleeping in the middle is that you are always 51
inches from getting out of the right side of the bed. Now this isn’t a
challenge… it’s a bonefide problem. The problem being that that waking up
marooned in the middle means you ALWAYS seem to be getting out of the wrong side
of the bed.
They don’t call being in a bad mood before noon getting out
of the wrong side of the bed for nothing. Starting the day with the reminder of
your unchosen status in the centre of a berth made for two is not a great place
to begin the day. Having to double bounce before you can swing your legs over
the side is guaranteed to make even the mildest person grouchy, irritable and
wistful.
And before you say, well… get a single bed… stop. It’s a
bizarre thing that as adults we just can’t revert back to single beds with ease.
Its one thing admitting you are alone, it’s another to hang up your hard won
adult trophy of a grown up bed and purchase the size of bed you once had a
child.
It wasn’t so bad back in the far distant days of my childhood
(when hardly anyone I knew was divorced). Married couples slept in double beds.
These strange items were barely 15 inches wider than a single bed, giving
couples of my parents’ generation just 27 inches each of personal space. The
beds were also quite short by modern standards being a mere 75” in length. I
should imagine one of the highlights of being divorced was being able to sleep
diagonally and keep your toes warm!
Somewhere along the line (I’m
guessing Sweden with their obsession with having a good nights sleep and a
decent snuggle) the idea of a bed 6″ wider and 5″ longer than a double bed
caught on. By the 70’s the smallest bed you could find in most homes across the
continent of Europe was this size… it became known as the Queen.
With lower
airfares (thank you Freddy Laker) we Brits began to realise that our cousins
over the pond didn’t leave supersizing to just their food portions and
gas-guzzling cars. The Americans introduced us to the super-size bed. With a set
of logic that deserves a standing ovation for is transparent simplicity the
yanks couldn’t understand why it was that a European double bed was not double
the size of a European single. An American double bed was 80 inches in length
and 76 inches in width – it was a proper double bed. However they loved the fact
that Europeans called their new slightly bigger double bed a Queen… so decided
to rebrand their version of the double bed as a King. After all what in an
American’s mind is bigger than a Queen?
Well as we all know after the
western world embraced the American Double… sorry… King Size Bed… it was
game over for single beds. Single beds became the preserve of children and
elderly people who don’t get on (though to be fair most of them were happily
snoozing solo in a Queen.) In fact beds just kept on getting bigger and
bigger… the recently bought flat sheet for my sleep pit says it measures 274 x
259 cms (DAMN YOU IKEA …what the hell is that in inches???)… but even I can
figure that’s a little bigger than a King. (For my American readers… what is
bigger than a King?… an Emperor?!)
When couples set up home, the master
bedroom is commonly arranged to accommodate a king size bed. When couples split
up, out goes the personal effects of the recently departed, in comes a whole
variety of personal taste in the boudoir. It becomes a room of wild self
expression. (Especially for someone like me who went from sharing with siblings
straight to sharing with partners, [Go directly to jail. Do not pass Go. Do not
collect £200 …], who had never had her own bedroom decorating was a blast!).
And yet there is still some restraint(unless one is really reckless) you stick
with the old bed – you’ve just lost 50% of the income into the household so
throwing out the 2nd most expensive piece of furniture is a no go. So there you
are with a huge bit of furniture and the challenge is to make it your
own.
So you shop till you drop and now the pillows match and co-ordinate
with your new 180 – 500 thread count sheets and duvet. You even do what no
couple (apart from the whipped variety) would ever do… go crazy with cushions
and a pointless foot throw. Challenge won! You have made the bed your
own.
But the problem remains….
Just how the hell does a
singleton get out of the right side of Emperor sized bed?
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