I've moved before in my life. A lot when I was really little. But in my memory, I lived in one house for about 10 years. After my parents got divorce, my mom moved around a bit but then got settled. Then my dad moved a bit and then got settled. But even during that time, there was always a bed that was mine and stable.
This month I started at home in that bed, in my travels in a bed in GA, and now I'm in this bed. Next month I know I'll sleep in at least two different beds. That's five beds in two months! And if my semester goes as planned, this rate will not slow down.
I don't want to say I have developed an attachment to beds, because I try not to get attached to the bed. 1. I know I will leave it soon. 2. It is an inanimate object. But I have developed a thing about beds.
I like proppig my pillow against the wall, having my coffee right there, and having all my textbooks within arms reach. (All of the books on the shelf are my textbooks, but the books on the shelf are not all of my textbooks).
I like the bed a lot. Perhaps I will match my long-term bed to it. Or perhaps, in my travels I will meet an assortment of beds which different fun elements and combine them into THE AWESOME BED! Ah, something I can dream about as I lay in each one...
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