Friday, January 14, 2011

You Ungrateful Little Bitch!

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.


  1. I feel you regarding the limited funds and such. But, believe me, whoever will sleep in that bed will feel all the caring thoughts and love of you putting into its design.
    My guests sleep either next to me in my bed (and have to fight for a piece of blanket) or in a sleeping bag under it (I have a high bed, I'd like to point out ;D), depending on how well we know each other. Nobody ever complained. On the contrary, everyone was so grateful for being offered a place to sleep at all! And, can you imagine, I didn't even have a panda bear! So, I really wouldn't be worried at all. Actually, I like the way your bed looks. It looks warm and inviting (and I do have some panties with exactly that pattern *lol*). <3
    (Love the "new" blog design, btw!)

  2. I would just like to say that you are completely allowed to complain about your bedding. If you are having a bad day, and with this weather, I can only imagine how it just keeps getting worse, you spend a lot of time in bed and thus, you deserve bedding that you LOVE!

    I too wish I had nicer bedding. Joe cares nothing for the aesthetics of our bedroom so I am forced to take my bedding out of my priority list.

  3. Well, this isn't even our bed. It's the bed you and Joe would sleep in if you were to be here. And I just need to get over myself. People don't come here to see my bed--they come here to see me or mine. And I need to remember that.

  4. E*phi

    When I first had vertigo, anyone who wanted to come over and hang out pretty much had to join me in my bedroom. We would snuggle up in my bed, watch television, even enjoy meals there. It was the only way I could handle anything at first.

    So I'd feel right at home in bed with you. But I'd also like the floor because I occasionally sleep on the floor to help my back.

    And the new blog design is in honor of the rare snow we had here in GA. Six inches is so peculiar for us. The city (not town or village but CITY) shut down for three days. Because of six inches. I can imagine your laughter even as you read this. :)