How Depression Makes Your Bed Your Best Friend

I now have the bed of my proverbial dreams.

It is a full sized bed, and it should be noted, the first and only full sized bed I've ever owned.
I picked it up in Austin Texas, where it had been left by my older brother. Originally having been appointed only with a single four or five inch thick futon mattress bearing a single Japanese symbol, it resembled sleeping on the floor in every manner apart from being about 2 feet from the ground.

I have since added, for the benefit of my lovely wife, a box spring and mattress. These items I purchased nearly new in Ann Arbor, Michigan from a University of Michigan student who was relocating. I rented a truck from home depot, picked up the items and surprised said wife that night.

We currently live separately and I have had this full bed all for my lonesome. I have heretofore improved upon this bed piece by piece. I have kept the flannel snowflake sheets since they are generally less useful in New Mexico, where my better half sleeps. In addition to these sheets I have one of the pair of black and white zebra striped comforters originally purchased by my mother for my brother in 1988. Yes, 1988.

About three years ago, I longed for a more substantial covering unit and purchased a "red on one side, pink on the other" quilted pillowcase and blanket set from Target, discounted from 75 to 30 dollars. I love this blanket. The cats look great on it.

About one year ago, I was visiting a friend in Whitmore Lake when I noticed his dense, lush comforter. Overcome with envy, I resolved to make such fine bedding my own. It took nearly one more year before my plans saw fruition. I found myself once again, at my local Target sleuthing for heavily discounted luxury linens.

While the cashier may have remarked, "For ten bucks, who cares what it looks like!" I loved my new comforter as soon as I saw it. It was thick, it was fluffy, it was heavy. It had a mid century style print featuring various plant and flower-like forms running from the feet to the head. Upon a classic off-white background, such heavenly hues as pea green, tangerine orange and rich Indian maroon climbed from stem to blossom.

Almost every night I climb into my cloth cave, pull my covers up to my face, fold them back so I have only flannel sheet in my face, and disappear.

One day I hope to take a more active interest in my waking life. But for now my alarm goes off at 1PM sharp and I generally have to answer the question, "why" before I climb back out into Mid Winter Michigan.