There I was, getting ready for bed last night. It was a little later than I had anticipated going to bed, but it wasn’t yet 11 pm, so it was still okay. I’d still get my – um – eight hours – no, wait, seven and a half hours of sleep IF I fell asleep immediately. Which of course, I never do, so I don’t know why I bother calculating how many hours of sleep I think I will get. But I was tired and longing for my down quilt and pillow.
I removed all the various decorative pillows that adorn my bed and piled them on the cedar chest. When PG is there, he throws them with wild abandon in a heap on the floor, somewhere in the room. He hates my decorative pillows. I don’t care what he thinks. I like them. I think they look inviting and cozy. Also, it only takes a couple of seconds to take them off at night and put them back on the bed in the morning. It’s not like there’s a hundred of them or anything. And I do have two lovely down-filled pillows that can actually be used for sleeping, so it’s not like there are no usable pillows at all!
Anyway, I crawled in, reached over and shut the bedside lamp. Then I remembered that I needed to set the alarm on the clock radio. Before laying down, I hit what I hoped was the right button on the clock radio. The display showed me that it wasn’t. I hit another button. Wrong again.
With exasperation, I switched the lamp on again, so I could see to set the alarm properly – and also to undo what I had just done, hitting the wrong buttons twice. (I told you I was tired.)
Sighing, I shut the lamp for the second time, and flopped back to get myself all comfy to sleep.
I completely missed my pillow.
I lifted my head to the other side of the bed. Still no pillow. I tried one more time, a little further down this time. No pillow. I started flailing around my bed in the dark, searching for the pillow, any pillow. Then I started to laugh. Who the hell misplaces their pillow at bedtime??
DD heard me laughing, came storming into my room and flipped the overhead light on. “What is actually WRONG with you?” she shouted.
Between howls of laughter, I explained that I had lost my pillow, and she started giggling too. “And you couldn’t turn on the light to look for it properly?”
Well, I would have, except that she came in and did it for me. Plus I was laughing pretty hard at the time. So she found my pillow, neatly piled on the cedar chest, exactly where I had apparently placed it. She tossed it at me, snickering, asked if I needed to be tucked in (no, thank you), shut the light, and went back to her room. I rearranged my pillow and quilt and settled down to sleep, still chuckling at my stupidity.
But I still can’t figure out why I had apparently thought I should sleep with my head on the cedar chest last night.