Princess & the Pea

My bed sits on the floor. Boxspring, then the mattress, then an air mattress on top. Ever since I started getting old having back issues, I’ve been sleeping with an air mattress on top of the regular mattress. If I could afford one of those memory foam things, I’d get one because the air mattress’ rubber is kinda hot.

Anyhoo, I wrap the air mattress in a nice mattress cover, and nice sheets and it’s a very comfy sleep. When it starts to leak a little air, I use the battery operated pump and make it all nice and firm again. At some point, this stops working. Sometimes, that point comes too soon because something external has popped the mattress. I’m not sayin’ who, er what.

Last night my mattress was fine. During the night I had a series of visitors who annoyed me. One of those visitors popped my mattress. It was way, way too squishy this morning and my ass was firmly on top of the regular mattress. I could feel the little quilted parts. This brings me to the tale of the Princess and the Pea.

You’re thinking kid’s fairy tale, right? Well, you’re half right. Rott and Motley know their fairy tales. They also know me. If there is anything between the mattresses, I flip out. I swear I can feel it. One night, I went to bed and couldn’t get comfy. I tossed and turned and finally yelled.

Rott comes in and says, “What the hell? Who died?”

“There’s something in my bed,” I bitch, getting up and looking in the sheets and blankets for the culprit.

“It’s probably one of those little toilet paper balls,” Rott snarks.

“Ewwww!” I squeal, still checking the bedding.

I can’t find anything, so I start to lift the air mattress. Pillows start to slide and Rott grabs the mattress saying, “Woah, there Nellie. Not so fast. You get the pillows and I’ll lift the mattress.”

I grab up the four pillows and stand there glowering at the bed as Rott lifts the mattress. I stare at the flat expanse of the bed skirt, stretched across the mattress without a hump or a lump or a wrinkle. I frown heavily and Rott gives me another look that is reminiscent of Hilly’s famous RMEITBOMH.

“There’s nothing there. Can I put the mattress down now? You’re imagining things because you’re sleepy,” he tells me.

“I’m not sleepy. And I’m not sleepy because there is something in my fucking bed!” I exclaim. “Look under the other mattress.”

By now, Motley has arrived. “What’s going on?” she asks.

“Here. Hold this,” Rott gripes and hands her the air mattress. He yanks off the bed skirt and lifts the regular mattress. There in the center of the box spring is a dried lima bean the size of my thumbnail.

“AH HA!” I yell and drop the pillows to grab up the bean. “I TOLD YOU!”

Rott and Motley exchange a very suspicious look. My eyes narrow. They ignore me and start putting my bed back together. When it’s all ready to go, Motley picks up my pillows and tosses them to Rott who puts them in the bed and plumps them up.

“Better go to bed. Now, that you can sleep that is,” he mutters in a voice that is decidedly smirky.

I look at him. I look at Motley. They both start to grin and Rott turns to leave.

“Hey! You forgot something!” I tell him.

He turns back to me and I throw the lima bean at him. He catches it in one hand. “Fucker. Not only did you fuck with my bed, you fucked with my groceries,” I grumbled.

Motley, now openly snickering, heads out, saying to Rott, “Told you she’s the Princess and the Pea.”

Rott shakes his head and leaves too. I hear his chuckles echo down the hall as he returns to the living room.

Tonight, I am reminded of that occasion because of my popped mattress. I’m gonna fill it up with air, but since it’s got a small (claw made) leak somewhere, I know that in a few hours my ass will be feeling the quilted cover of the regular mattress, something far, far worse than a lima bean to someone like me.

I may not wake up black and blue like the Princess and the Pea did, but I guaran-damn-tee you that I will have tossed and turned and barely slept… just like a real Princess would have done.

Wishing you a pea-less Thursday!

Smart Girls

Yes, Motley and I are now Smart Girls. I bought us both smart phones tonight. I stalked eBay the past two nights pricing phones. I checked with T-Mobile to see how much new ones would cost. I just want more functionality. Something I didn’t think I wanted last November when I got the Samsung Stripe and re-upped with T-Mobile.  Yeah, well since November I found blogging and Twitter and Flickr. Needs change. My tiny little Samsung sucks. I bought a new Dash.

As for Motley, she has a fairly new Razr. We re-upped her not that long ago too. She dropped her phone in the sink. HARD. Now it doesn’t function very well. There are a few places I don’t take my phone for this very reason. Kitchen. Fire. Water. Bad for my phone. Bathroom. Water. Toilet. Even more bad for my phone.  So my phone doesn’t go to either of those places. Apparently, Motley thought the phone was permanently attached to her hand because she texts, IMs, and twats on it so much. Then she went in the kitchen and found out that wasn’t true. Surprise, surprise. So, being the good mom that I am *rolls eyes*, I got her a used BlackBerry 8700G.

Now, don’t you wish I was your mom?

No Roses

It seems like a day doesn’t go by that something doesn’t happen to make me fear my mortality. I’m sure one of the reasons I write about immortals is that I’m quite afraid of dying. Today, I got to work and discovered my co-worker’s husband had died in his sleep on Saturday. This is the second of my co-workers to lose a husband. It’s shocking. And heartbreaking.

With my mortality feeling very fresh and raw, I managed to get through the day. However, while others might feel that making sure someone has their “power of blog” is part of making arrangements, I know that’s not at all at the top of my list. I worry about Motley. I mean, the kid is already struggling. If something happens to me, she has no one. No parents. No grandparents. No family. I’m horribly afraid of what will happen to her if something happens to me.

I can’t even leave her much. 15K in an insurance policy from my work. That’s it. I own my car and some household appliances. Motley wouldn’t be able to stay in the condo we live in. She couldn’t pay for it, even if she had a roommate. This situation totally freaks me out.

I told her not to spend anything on me. If I’m still working for the cemetery, they will pay for everything except things like a burial permit, death certificates, and an alternative container to cremate me in. The only thing I wanted her to spend on was a nice urn that doubles as a jewelry box to keep me in. It should cost very little of the 15K to dispose of me. And I want it that way. She will need that money.

Fear drives a lot of the things I do. When I yell at her to clean up and stuff, I’m not just being pissy because there’s trash to go out and dust and dirt. As an asthmatic who can’t afford her meds because the co-pays are too much, my life often feels very fragile, especially when dirt and dust affect my breathing. All it would take is a virus or a bad asthma attack and Motley would be an orphan. And that totally scares me. Not for me so much, but for her.

Over the weekend, ShinyBitch went to CrueFest. She discovered Papa Roach. Rott and I have been fans for awhile, since the first CD. For my Tuesday Tune, I thought I’d play some Papa Roach. Since my theme today has been a sad one, I chose Roses On My Grave. I’m not going to be buried so there is no need for roses for me.

Papa Roach-Roses On My Grave

Go hug the people who matter to you today. You never know what you may wake up to. Or who may be gone when you open your eyes.

Almost Snoopy Dancin’

Guess what Motley found?

Never underestimate the ability of a teenager to find a needle (Photoshop CD) in a haystack (the Katrina rubble conditions in her bedroom). Now, if she can just find the CD case with the license code, I’ll be ecstatic!

BTW, she was on Crotch Shot Radio‘s New Music show yesterday.

I’ve edited to add this. I Twittered this yesterday, but Susan saying that photo is hot reminded me of this. This is a video on Andrei Andrei’s blog. He’s one of the 5 guys in the vid. Turn your sound down and just watch. The song is some Japanese artist. As Karl twatted, “Is she saying goo goo gaga, cause I can’t understand a word she’s singing.” Trust me. Sound off. Hotness on.

Also, I’m guest posting at Amber’s today so stop by and show me and Amber some luv!