Supellectilem Cladis!

As of 5:15 AM this morning, I have stopped being a consumer of flatpack products from that Swedish company.

I did not expect to have such a dramatic epiphany, but I realize now that I should have seen the signs earlier. And when you hear my story, you will understand my decision.

I was sleeping peacefully in my bed and it collapsed.

Not enough, okay...

I was sleeping peacefully in my bed and it collapsed...slowly.

There was a loud crack in the night that I heard more than I felt, then the bottom left side of me dropped dramatically, leaving me half-sunk into a wooden frame dazed and annoyed.

And angry...

But as I said, there were plenty of signs of this moment to come.

I first received the delivery of my NEIDEN - yup, that is the actual name of this accident - back in 2019. I could not go to the store to pick it up, but I could order everything online, just like everybody else would during the quarantine. Since this was pre-Covid-19, I had every opportunity to go to an actual box store. But I would not do it; I could not do it. I would have hated myself if I had done it.

There was always a small part of me that felt it odd that so many people would enjoy shopping at a store that made their customers build their own furniture (guess they got the memo that we all wanted to secretly become carpenters, upholsterers and interior decorators for free). But, as I admitted above, I did buy one. I had no choice. I needed a bed when I moved into my new place, discovering for myself that I had spent far too much time sleeping on used mattresses provided by roommates who had never found the time to throw them out and replace them. A simple tatami mat might have done it; cheaper was the futon that I rolled out on top of cardboard sheets. No comfort there. So, finally, the Swedish store came to my rescue.

To be fair, it did not take me long to assemble the bed. But I realized that something was missing: the slats!

Do you know what I mean?

The slats are the strips of wood held together with rubber slips attached with a space between them to stretch them out inside the inner frame (see the first picture above for a poorly-assembled example). I truly felt that when I put it in place - a few weeks later - that it would support my body and I would get a good night's sleep, everything would work out.

Naah...

I quickly learned that those slats would slide out of place while I rested, often during the night while I was trying to decide whether it was worth shifting around on a very nervous bed.

It was not.

Have you ever been in a bumper car and just waited for that very hard bump that just knocks you out for the rest of the ride? Well, this was nothing like that. I would compare it to sitting in a chair just knowing that if you cross your legs too quickly or lean back, it would collapse under you.

Not a very comfortable thought, is it?

I experimented with the material that I put under the mattress - another separate purchase - until I found that several sheets of cardboard taken from the boxes I used to move into my new place could provide some stability. Not that this was a perfect situation, but it did reduce the slats dropping out from under me as I slept.

And I slept well. Over time, especially with the burden of working from home and dealing with all the stresses of quarantine, I began to forget that my bed was a nervous ride that would challenge my circadian rhythms and REM sleep. It was easy to forget about it with masking, vaccine mandates, protests, lost contracts and attempting to work from home.

Until this past month.

A portion of the bed slid out of place last month, but I never really did feel that this was important. I had flipped the mattress after changing sheets - an established habit - and had pushed part of the frame out of its joint.

And then part of the frame cracked.

Again, not a worry. As long as everything stayed in place with the slats, cardboard and my unsentimental wish to get a good night's sleep, everything would be fine.

It is now the day after the day when I began this piece. I truly wished to finish this when I got home from work, did not even take off my coat, and began writing my complaint. I have spent the night on the floor with my mattress on a rather mild night. When it does get colder, I may feel some of the weather in my back and then have another piece to write here, but I will be okay.

For now.

I have also taken some time, between marking papers and exams for my work, to go online and hunt down a proper bed frame and a mattress that does not feel like something that would be packed into a station wagon on a camping trip. Some of the people providing their beds are moving out of town and seem desperate enough to mark down what a majority of us spend our lives on. Tomorrow, I will begin to do a little hunting at two local stores not too far from my place. The only demands I have are:

• No bed bugs
• The ability of the owner or store manager to deliver
• The proper size for my room

I should probably also explain the title of this piece. It is a little Latin that I threw into Google Translate for fun. It means 'Furniture Disaster' and I think that it is a phrase that I will never forget. I just hope that I never have to use it again.

And now, off to rest.

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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