bunk_bed somniac I just realised how sad my bed is. It is one of those bunk beds that can come apart to make two single beds. But there has only ever been me, the other bed now lives in the spare room. I can just imagine my parents, optimistically choosing the bunk bed in the shop when I was old enough for it. "She can sleep on it now, and then when we have another one there will be a bed ready." But they never had another one, it's just me. 040710 ... tender_square back when brea and i shared a bedroom, we had bunk beds. it was a set my parents had bought candi and terri from monarch matress in the 70s that we inherited when they upgraded to waterbeds. dad had hustled all weekend driving cab to have enough cash to buy it for them on tourangeau. the single beds could be used individually or stacked on top of each other with pegs driven through the holes inside every pine-spindled bedpost. the mattresses and box springs were brown and gold and orange with a pineapple vector pattern, kind of like wallpaper. the bed frames came a foot off the ground; even when we were kids it took effort to slide our bodies beneath them during hide and seek. this design element also made it next to impossible for brea to sit up in bed without hitting her head on the box spring above her. the top bunk was so low to the ground that if i stood on brea’s mattress, i could lift a leg and pull the rest of my body onto the bed, no trouble. brea has this story she likes to tell about waking up in the middle of the night after having a bad dream when she was about ten or so. she got up out of her bed to see if i was awake, as we often did growing up. she kept whispering my name, “cassie. cassie,” at the edge of my bed. i was facing the wall, my back was to her. suddenly, i turned around, my eyes still closed. “WHAT!?!” i hissed at her. she peed herself a little in that moment, said “never mind” quietly under her breath, and cowered in the corner of her bed rocking herself until dawn. when she told me what i’d done the next morning, i had no recollection of being woken at all. i was known to talk in my sleep. i dreamed in that same bed until i was eighteen. and when i complained about how shitty my back felt each morning, mom took me to monarch mattress to buy my first queen set. 220113 what's it to you? who go blather from