Michael and I spent most of Saturday afternoon rearranging furniture again. When you live in a shoebox, there is always the misconception that if the couch were just on the other side of the room things would be so much more spacious. Our misguided spatial abilities lead us to an entire afternoon of shifting and rearranging. I need to see it to believe it. Things are still bizarre and we are still sleeping on a mattress on the floor, but the living room...it looks so spacious.
The point?, you may be asking (please this is a blog post, do they ever have points, well maybe in a vague narcissistic sort of way. I'm getting there.
Last month, Michael noticed that when we moved from Cincinnati I swapped sides of the bed. (Do you know how couples are about their sides? I think it gets bad enough that it carries over to hotel rooms, and if you are ever forced to sleep with a sibling or friend in a hotel bed you might get into a fist fight if you are both right siders.) Me, not so much. Michael believes I need to sleep nearest to the door. This is very mobster of me, no? Kind of like the favorite seat in restaurants (in the corner so you can see the room of course, and no one can sneak up behind you with a weapon --or more salad dressing). In my family, we sometimes end up doing a little restaurant dance where we shuffle around one another trying to get the premium seating when the table is wedged in a corner. But, back to bed sidedness, I never noticed my switches or proximity to the door but Michael's theory of it cracks me up. Do I need to escape to somewhere? I am not a get up in the middle of the night bathroom person. I could get all psychoanalytic about this, but I am not so much concerned as amused. We swapped the side of the room the bed was on yesterday and when I looked at the bed the first thing I said was "You know I'm going to have to sleep on the other side now."
Wow, an entire post of drivel about bed sidedness. Do you have a side? How about the seat on the bus? Last week in my training, I sat at the "Kindergarten table" (sounds super cool right?). We sat in the same seats everyday. You know how when you go to class and someone is in "your" seat it screws you up for the entire class. (And how this is especially bad if you have to sit way closer and you can feel the rest of the class behind you, or you have to continually wrench your neck around to catch site of the person asking a question or making a comment.) Apparently, this does not affect me in bed, and if I was alone, I'd just sprawl anyway.