Sleeping With Spoons

One night last week, as I prepared to get in bed, I paused to notice the landscape atop my sheets.  My pillow was placed in the corner of the mattress, as I’ve been sleeping diagonally for the past couple weeks.  The inventory around the pillow was as follows:  the small blanket I’ve been sleeping with since infancy, my iPad®, a white cord, a pair of ear buds, two books, a few crumpled paper towels (I’d been nursing a cold and paper towels hold more snot than tissues) and a spoon.

I paused to consider the spread before throwing away the paper towels and taking the spoon to the sink.  The mess and the germs were uniquely my own.  The choice to remove the trash was all mine as well.  I was overcome with gratitude for the space and freedom in my life.  As is often the case, I took a moment to thank The Universe for my home, my lifestyle and the gigantic bed that I don’t have to share (at least, not on a prescribed basis).

I’ve often seen polls asking people to list The Best Thing About Living Alone.  I think the next time I see one of those, I’ll add “sleeping with spoons” to the list.  I think it should rank right up there with “leaving the bathroom door open” and “not sharing the remote.”

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