They say a change is as good as a holiday. It’s been a good three months since we had a trip which might explain why we’ve changed our bedroom around.
I’ve been thinking about for a while. Planning it all out in my head. In there, it looked great. And in fact, it does look great. I like it better than the way it was before. It flows better and the space is more useable.
The problem, what’s made me lose my bearings and possibly my marbles, is that everything is opposite. I’ve swapped sides of the bed. After close to 15 years of sleeping on the same side, I’m trying not to fall off the edge as I snuggle up to where hubby used to be. He’s still there, just on the other side. And it’s just weird trying to fall asleep on the other side. There’s a disturbance in The Force.
I know we could just swap back to our rightful positions, but I have this thing about being closest to the door. I understand I’m not alone. I read once that women, on the whole, prefer to sleep closest to the door. I think it’s maternal. If you’re closest to the door, you’re the first one the kids climb on when they pitter patter downstairs at 3am. It could be paternal too, for the very same reason.
My troubles don’t end there. The dresser is now on the opposite side of the room. When I make a dash from the ensuite to get dressed, I’m faced with a blank wall where my underwear should be. It’s disconcerting to say the least. My habit has become to turn in a circle three times to gather myself. I then remember which direction I should be headed, only to be faced with my next challenge. In my confusion I don’t seem to be able to tell left from right. My things are still on the same side of the dresser, but I inevitably open my husband’s drawer.
I haven’t yet become so at sea that I put on his underwear, but I’m worried it’s just a matter of time.