my bed

All I could think of yesterday, stuck at the airport departure lounge waiting for the gate to open cos the flight’s delayed so they could fix the plane’s aircon, was how much I wanted to get home. A short flight but do much waiting. Plane, waiting for the luggage, waiting for the train, waiting for the taxi. Lines everywhere.

Most of all I wanted my bed. It’s not the biggest, or has the best mattress, or the best linen, but it’s my comfy bed that’s all mine. A simple Ikea queen size pine bed with slats. A heavy hard mattress that I turn over whenever I remember.

Hotel beds are nice, clean sheets everyday, more pillows than I need, but it’s not my bed.

Hotel beds are huge, even more huge than mine, but it’s not my bed.

I miss curling up inside my 2 duvets, the same 2 duvets regardless of whether it’s summer or winter.

I miss the feel of the sheets and the duvet cover on my skin. Oh yes my bed has one big rule, the wearing of clothing is optional and highly overrated.

I miss the clock at the side table.

I even miss the sunshine breaking through the curtains in the morning.