Tripod Eye

I Was Here - Beyonce

I've discovered that it is possible to be a refugee in your own home, taking whatever you get when it comes to marginally passable beds.

Sleepy time for the past week or so has been confined to where ever I am when my body system decides to crash (usually in the dead midst of desperately paddling around in work). This basically means I've been waking up either sprawled on the living room floor (right under the coffee table for some reason), hunched over awkwardly on the lounge chair, half my body on the kitchen table right next to leftover curry, or (most famously} head fully on my Mac's keyboard so that I wake up to whole paragraph of gibberish (UIFGUILAEGLAIUGFUGAFUCEGUWGFGUDFFF) on my Word doc and a neck ache. Fun.

The reason being my room is too much of a sleep advocator. I am abhoringly unproductive when stationed within its walls. Partly because two-thirds of my room is carpeted with a 6-inch thick cushy goodness that is my bed. I lose all authority to my limbs when I come into the slightest contact with le bed and all I want to do is to sink into snuggle heaven.

And it does not help that my mom has switched to a new brand of softener for laundry. It is dubiously called "Downy PASSION" but it makes my sheets smell like sex in a lavender meadow, or a baby lamb with a mohawk, or a strip-club Laduree. Very pretty and Mary Poppins, but with a twang of raunchy. And naughty. Fresh but dirty. Good but.............................................

Words fail me. I give up attempting to sensationalize The Comforter Experience (yes, that's what I'm calling it). I would cut out a piece of my comforter for anyone keen, but...no.

When I came back today, the strap of my camera was hanging out of my drawer like a wagging tongue. The little tease made me fish out my entire camera. I pulled it into bed with me and oh my god was it good to be in bed. The wonderful feeling of your spine straightening and your entire back exposed to a beautiful sensation: SUPPORT.

I think I heard a small crack. My back hasn't been properly aligned for THAT long.

Anyway, I was rather lazy to contort a single limb of my body to attempt a decent shot. I was exhausted, whiny and smelt like Australian beef (let's not go there). I'll now leave today's decently length-ed post with shots that should form a 360 degree panaromic view of my room while I am blissfully on my back in bed.

They're unmagnificent and were taken with a lazy rotation of the wrist, but they make me feel...rested and calm.

I miss thinking so little, enjoying the process and falling in utter and complete love with how everything seems to just fall into place in the end.

Stoked to read Frankie tomorrow, been meticulously combing the island for this issue.

One hell of an Easter Egg hunt, I tell you.