Sometimes I miss sleeping on a half-inflated aero bed on the floor.

Hear me out.

So for a good portion of my adult life, I haven’t had a legit bed. I had a “bed” in the Wallace dorm (I put quotes around it because it was really just some springs with, like, a small sheet of foam over top) and in McConnell, but once I moved in with the guys, I slept on an aero bed. I slept on the same aero bed in Vancouver until I punctured it on a door strike plate (if having internet in that garbage bag of a basement apartment meant switching my bedroom and living room, then I was going to switch away). Then I…um…

(slept on the deflated bed for like five months because depression is fun)

Got a new one in my new Vancouver apartment and slept on that until Tucson, where I slept on a thick piece of foam. Then, back in Moscow, I slept on a couch. And back on an aero bed in Calgary before moving in with Nate and finally having an actual bed.

Every once and a while, especially when it’s hella cold out like it’s been lately, I really miss crawling into the comforting cocoon of a half-deflated aero bed, wrapping like seven blankets around me, and just relaxing. Daydreaming. Hitting REM sleep as soon as my eyes close.*

Don’t get me wrong, having an actual factual bed is nice. But aero beds, man…

*Though I can do this anywhere. Ask Nate/my mom/anyone who’s sat near me in a plane/bus/car.