I’ve been tired lately.
Just tired. Not soul weary tired. Not exhausted down to my bones tired. Not averaging four hours of sleep tired.
Just normal tired*
And I am thankful for my bed.
My bed that doesn’t get made enough. My bed that always has at least one book stacked in the upper right corner. My bed that is framed by an old head and foot board that I got for forty dollars at my favorite antique store. My bed with my perfectly level, spray painted, estate sale mirrors hung over it, with the promise they won’t fall on me in the night-time. My bed with my sweater blanket and heated mattress pad.
*on second thought, maybe I’m a little beyond normal tired… I did just wrote an ode to my bed.