Well dear souls;
I have decided it is finally time to acknowledge my royal status.
I have kept this secret, lo these many years, deeming life would be much simpler if I could manage to live it incognito.
There comes a time however, when even the best kept secrets finally must be exposed to the light of day.
I do realize that those of you who know best me must be somewhat surprised to discover that I am actually a princess.
I do also fully understand that you have always considered me to be a somewhat hoydenish, country gal who is none too fond of dressing up or wearing shoes; a gal who is happiest dealing with recalcitrant critters, yanking weeds, and generally adhering to the pioneer manner of preserving the fruits of the earth, vine and tree.
You have known me also as a gal who is happiest spending her days ambling the highways and byways searching out secret places; a gal who will gladly wade through waist high swamp muck searching out elusive flora and fauna. (often ending up with a case of Poison Ivy).
It is thus with a certain reluctance that I disclose my status, but I have realized lately that the truth can no longer be hidden.
It's the bed you see.
It doesn't love me anymore.
Now, I wouldn't want you to blame the bed entirely.
While it is true, that the mattress is well past it's best due date, the fault lies entirely with me and my royal blood, not the bed.
It is a well known fact to some of you that I am a lifelong insomniac.
From my salad days, sleep and I were ever strangers.
It has now come to the point where we are not even on speaking terms.
My nights are spent tossing and turning.
I have more ups and downs than a toilet seat.
It's the peas you see.
Oh, I don't mean real ones...
But my bed feels like there are peas under the mattress.
I feel every dimple, and crumple, each wrinkle and crinkle.
The nap on the sheets causes excruciating agony.
Now, some people might blame this on the osteoarthritis and fibromyalgia, but in fact the entire problem lies with my royal blood.
Phew!
It sure is a relief now that you all know.
Confession really is good for the soul.
So...
Now that the issue is out in the open.. I have decided to treat myself to a bed worthy of a princess.
I've bitten the bullet; grabbed the rose by the thorns; and...
I've ordered a new mattress.
Now granted, I will still be sleeping on a circa 1810-1820 maple four poster bed with canopy, which has been converted from a rope bed, but now..
On top of the 1" plywood platform, which rests atop the side rails there will be a new 14" foam mattress, replacing the current 7" mattress.
Granted, the bed, which is already much higher than normal will be an additional 7" higher..
But I hope that sleep and I will once more become firm friends.
Now..
Does anyone have an antique bed stool for sale?
Tags: Sleeplessness Fibromyalgia Osteoarthritis
