The many trials of sharing a bed

Sharing a bed

I like having the entire bed to myself, sharing it with someone is hellish. You stir uncomfortably and realise it’s because their legs have crossed over to your side and their feet are cold. Then you shift uncomfortably and find out it’s because they have assumed a strange position that occupies three-quarters of the bed. You move your body uncomfortably and notice it’s because you’re uncovered, so you sleepily pat around for the blanket and find that your bedmate is peacefully sleeping on it (they may also sleep on the hem of your nightdress).

If they are merciful, they will only take the upper part of the blanket so that everything from your waist up is uncovered, or hog the lower part of the blanket so that everything from your waist down is uncovered. And that shit is uncomfortable. With your eyes still closed, you pull the blanket from them but nothing happens. Thinking that it’s because you’re sleepy and your muscles are relaxed, you pull the blanket harder, but, still, nothing happens. You open your eyes and pull again but the wicked monster seems to have glued the blanket under them.

Have you ever been sleepy and pissed off at the same time? Making a soft, angry smack with your lips, you sit up and pull harder. You forcefully tug at the blanket, yanking and jerking it from beneath that selfish pile of crap that thinks you don’t deserve a good night’s sleep. They were just being sarcastic when they told you to have a good night. In fact, it looks like the hideous creature has gently slipped into a coma because you haven’t recorded any movement from it yet, even though you’ve been pulling that blanket as if you’re uprooting the evil roots of poverty in your family. After shaking them awake and reclaiming your portion of the blanket, you angrily turn to face the opposite side, trying to move as far away from them as possible, but your buttocks touch.