So last night as I was snuggling down in my oh-so-warm bed it occurred to me that I am an ungrateful little bitch. How dare I complain about not being able to get bedding I like, that we are financially forced to settle for something that will do rather than invest in something that we love?
How many people who have been unemployed for four years have the resources with which to buy new bedding for a guest?
That lasted for a few minutes before I shoved it aside. Okay. I was ungrateful. I admit it. Suck it up. Move on.
Typically, I am very grateful. I think I express it more or less as best I can. I think yesterday was more about my frustration at my limitations. I thought it was about my finances: I can't afford the best so I have to buy whatever fits my budget. Really what it was about was my frustration with all of the limitations I perceive in my life at this time. Like how I find certain yoga asanas a torture and how endlessly tired I've been feeling lately. Because seriously . . . do I really believe that Rob's mother is going to look at the blanket pattern and think, "Ewww" or "That is such a butch bed"? Or do I think and know she is going to be thrilled to see her son, delighted to be visiting us, and hoping to find a way to avoid the dogs for a few minutes?
I had a friend (notice the past tense) who would come over and she would assess my home. "I don't like that," she would say, pointing to a dresser that I too didn't like. I couldn't disagree with her. But as I sat there, unemployed and unhappy with my health, I realized that I hadn't asked her what she thought of my furniture and I certainly didn't ask her to tell me her opinion. In fact, I thought to myself, "Whatever happened to saying nothing if you have nothing nice to say?"
I didn't say any of this and the next time she came over and did it again, pointing out another piece of furniture I didn't love myself, I started noticing a pattern of criticism in her that was personally unwelcome.
I'm fully capable of criticizing and judging myself, thank you very much, and I don't need anyone's help.
Hence the past tense highlighted parenthetically because I decided that this person is no longer welcome in my home.
Which is how Tarepanda ended up on the bed. Obviously, a panda belongs on a black and white plaid bed. Plus, Tarepanda was popular among adult men in Japan. But here in the US I think it's safe to say that big plushy pandas are a girl thing. And that little panda by the lamp was a Valentine's Day gift from Rob. Quite the dashing fellow, holding a rose, with his white starch collar and red bow tie.
Okay. So it is still more masculine that I would have liked and I look forward to the day that the sheets on the guest bed are so soft they feel like soft as silk but warm and fluffy as cotton balls.
And I appreciate and am truly grateful for the fact that I can buy something to make a guest feel welcome and, hopefully, a little more comfortable.