IHOP day 18 — 4 miles

A confession: I’m 62 years and 4 months old, and I’ve never owned a mattress. Till yesterday.

OK, technically Mo bought it, but Arizona is a joint-mattress ownership state, so I think I am legally entitled to part of it. We slept on it last night for the first time, and I think I get what people have been talking about. OK, nobody talks about it, but still.

As I was lying in bed last night thinking, “jeez louise, this doesn’t feel like I’m sleeping on a sidewalk anymore,” I was thinking back, and realized I’ve never actually owned a mattress.

When I was a kid, the parents always provided one. I think it’s mandatory in the parental handbook. When I first moved out, I lived in furnished apartments, given that I had nothing much but running shoes and guitars. I slept under a co-worker’s ping-pong table for a year or so in my sleeping bag. I always liked the idea of sleeping in the bag, because it made every night a camping adventure.

I moved to Austin and slept in my sleeping bag inside my tent set up in the living room because I had no furniture. Once I finally settled down, I got a waterbed from my brother. It was the ’80s, you know. It followed me to Arizona until I eventually got kicked out of my abode. I lost the bed and everything else in a divorce that came as a relief because I had too much stuff at that point anyhow. Then I was back to nothing but guitars and running shoes and sleeping on the floor in the living room in my sleeping bag. Funny how life comes full circle.

And then Mo came along. I married her mostly because she had an actual bed, although it was just a wooden frame with a scrawny futon mattress. And that’s what we’ve had for 20 years. Until yesterday.

Mo ordered a Real Mattress. It came in a box and magically fluffed itself out. And here’s the thing. It’s soft. And comfortable. And it doesn’t make you want to just sleep in the living room chair because it’s so damn hard that what’s the point in going to bed.

And today’s outing was better. Sub-15s for all four miles. Was it because of the mattress? Or the Democratic House majority? Or the joy of finally being back on the track? Beats me. All I know is it’s just past noon and I already want to go back to bed.

I’m 62 and I own a mattress. Adulting is funny …

About gary

no sock monkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.
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