First World Problems

Today, I have mostly been wrestling with my bed.

Not IN my bed. It wasn’t a case of rolling around in the duvet, and refusing to pull up the blinds, as is my occasional want.

WITH our bed.

Have you ever tried to turn a king-sized mattress around in a room that has barely a foot-and-a-half extra walking space around it. Plus the room has side tables holding tall lamps and books and laptops?

Laptops.

That was where this party started.

Because, yesterday, after about two months of looking, I found my brand new apple laptop underneath something that was underneath our bed. 

It was an absolute and total joy of a day as I’d been quietly panicking about the fact that I might have paid a feck load of money for a brand new laptop only last September (birthday pressie for myself) and hardly used it.

As I said, it was doubly underneath and, although that was an obvious place to do a deep dive in search of said device, I decided to explore the nooks and crannies of every other room and shelf in the house first. 

I haven’t been continuously looking for two months. Our house is not that big. In fact it’s pretty small, as demonstrated by the lack of rotational space for EMMA. That’s the brand of mattress. And if you have ever tried lifting her, you know she is heavy.

My looking has consisted of an odd rifle here and there, and I have quietly become more and more anxious but done very little about it. 

Until yesterday, when I went into systematic hunting mode in the two obvious places: my box-room/office/dumping ground and our bedroom. And, as is inevitable, the last place one looks is clearly the first place one should have looked, it was revealed.

What has finding a laptop got to do with moving a mattress?

Dust.

Layers of it, beneath the bed, especially in the corner that my laptop was found. Infrequently frequented evidently.

So, this morning, I stripped the bed and got the hoover out and crawled beneath, sneezing my way to cleanliness. I even went so far as to yank EMMA on to her side to hoover in the grooves of the slats as I was on a roll. 

That took about ten minutes of manoeuvring and inching so that I didn’t knock the paraphernalia off Anne’s side table. I know I could have moved all that first, but where’s the challenge in that! 

Post dusting and hoovering, I then decided to rotate the mattress. This required dragging and dropping and lifting and inching and dragging just a little bit more for another ten minutes. By which time, two lamps had been knocked over, I was sweating, and the layers in EMMA had bunched up, forcing me to open her up for some remedial surgery.

I’m now having a small break before putting the bed sheets on. It might need a lie-down in a dark room with that expended effort, but boy, am I going to sleep well tonight.