You know, for someone who spends 7-8 hours sleeping every night (a whopping 1/3 of every single day of my life), I would tend to think that I, along with every other human being on this narcoleptic planet, is a freaking sleeping jedi master.

However, after the last few weeks, as much as it pains me to say it, I must admit that the one tool that is essential to the success of the nightly ritual is goddam hard to get right.

I’ve been spending the last month, more or less, trying in vain to decide on a new bed for my elongated self. As it stands (lies down) now I am currently spending the most wonderful parts of my nights on a singular, truncated twin bed. My full height being 6′4″, I haven’t really been able to simply lie straight on a bed in a very long time without my feet perched precariously on the edge of my padded rectangular cliff, either having their circulation cut off by the lip of the bed or poking out and freezing from under the duvet if I’m feeling particularly adventurous that evening.

Enough! I have said. A more suitable sleeping arrangement is sorely needed! The quest is launched, the journey begins. Hi-ho! Its off to buy a bed I go!

So back to the troubles then. I’ve unfortunately discovered, along with some “bed jargon” (eurotop, anyone?), that the ability for a body to judge “comfort” is quite severely limited on the top edge of the comfort spectrum. Its like - you know how if you get a cream pie in your face? Once it happens, that’s it - you’ve been creamed. If, let’s say, another cream pie is launched at your head, its not like you’re going to get any creamier. You’ve reached the limits of creamisity. Similarly, if you lie down on one bed, and think “Hey, this is comfortable!”, and they try another one, its not like you’ll be able to magically tell which one is absolutely better. The only time that I was able to remotely come close to feeling something akin to a true comparison was when I was rolling back and forth between two adjacent beds on the showroom floor.

It doesn’t end there, however. FOR THERE ARE MANY STORES. Ahh yes. Capitalism at its best. Competition for your money equals better quality and lower prices. BAH! BAH I SAY! If its practically impossible to dicern between matresses in a single store, imagine the ease one encounters in remembering the “feeling” that the mattresses in that store felt like as you lie down on this little nugget in store number two.

I now completely empathize with that ant trying to move a rubber tree plant (by the way - he can’t!).

SO: bite the bullet. Choose a store, limit yourself to that one. Doesn’t work otherwise. I chose. I saw. I lay down. I pointed. I bought.

I bought.. a pink bed.

October is Breast Cancer month. The Bay recognizes this. A mattress company also recongnizes this. What better way to show your support than to fabricate a bed that is completely pink, and has breast cancer ribbons embroidered into the lining!? That’s what I thought! None! It also happens to be the most comfortable beast of the lot. So screw it, I now have a pink bed. $25 goes to research! I can think of that every time I change the sheets!