Join Me for 24 Hours in My Bed

I wake up in my bed, wrapped in my cozy sheets. They are organic crisp percale from Quince. Now that I sleep alone, it’s my job to decide which sheets to buy, so I did a search for comfortable but durable sheets made from organic fibers. Sheets that breathe and keep me cool at night while also being high-quality and natural.

I don’t want Walmart cheap junk anymore. Every time they wear out, it means I have to make a new decision. Making decisions is something I prefer to do once and never again when possible.

What’s a thread count? Does it matter? I’ve had high-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets so slippery they end up bunched at the end of the bed. Then I slide off the bottom sheet onto the floor in a sleepy morning state.

How do I stay cool when I sleep? This is a necessity for me, as my body runs warm and I like to sleep in 68–70° weather or cooler. I’ve had expensive linen sheets that stayed cool, and I loved them, but they couldn’t protect themselves from the slightest foot callus, ultimately ripping them to shreds. And they are expensive!

What color? I don’t care as much about this. Just give me gray or green. Gray matches everything, and green is my favorite color. Give me whatever versions of those you have.

So I adjust my search and negotiate: “I want the most affordable natural-fiber cooling sheets I can buy that will last me a long time.”

The answer was “organic crisp percale.”

I have to say that the sheets I finally ended up with were worth the water used to cool the machine that recommended them. Finally, a set that can hold its own against a man while staying cool and accommodating. If I can’t find it in a woman, I’ll take it in sheets.

You might be thinking, “That’s a lot of thought to put into sheets.”

And yes, yes it is.

But my bed is my happy place. It’s where only good things happen. I sleep in it—one of my favorite pastimes—and there was a time when I was doing my other favorite pastime in it as well. My bed is sacred and should be treated as such by being adorned with the best I can afford.

I also read in bed, write in bed, drink coffee in bed, watch my documentaries and comedies in bed, etc. Everything good in my life happens when I’m in bed. Everything bad happens when I leave my bed and go outside my room.

So, short of a golden ticket to the grand opening of an amazing and magical chocolate factory, I think I’ll just stay in bed.

So step off, Charlie! I’m happy here.

Let’s spend 24 hours together in my happy place… my bed.

We’ll just skip over my ideal 24 hours in bed because we aren’t that familiar with each other yet.

This is a typical day if I got to spend all 24 hours in bed, assuming I’m alone and not depressed. Been there and done that.

As I already mentioned, my perfect 24 hours begins when I wake up in my bed. I’m wrapped in my percale sheets, still cool and cozy. The temperature outside keeps my room at the perfect 68° required to be comfortable while still snuggled up in my sheets and blanket.

The dog miraculously took himself out to the bathroom without waking me, so I was able to sleep in to a whopping 8:00 in the morning. I am well-rested and ready for my day… of staying in bed.

Okay. I take care of my business too, because it’s been at least eight hours, with sleep and all, and nature calls. But then it’s right back into bed. I’ll let the dog get on the bed too if he promises to lay still and not make a ruckus.

I reach over to start the coffee maker on its bedside station to begin brewing my first cup. Yes, there is a coffee station directly next to my bed. It was prepared the night before with a full water reservoir and fresh Starbucks Pike Place grounds. My favorite rustic brown mug from a swanky diner I went to on my trip to Sedona, Arizona, is already in place to catch my liquid morning gold.

All I have to do is press start.

You may call this lazy, but I call this efficiency and planning for success. I need to maximize every moment and energy expenditure for my day of doing nothing.

I start off my day by praying and then reading. I read the Bible first because it never lets me down, and no matter how much I read it, I always learn something new that comforts me, gives me hope for the future, and makes me feel closer to my Creator.

This puts me in the best frame of mind to take on the day.

Which I will not be doing today, on account of staying in bed.

Next, I read my fellow Vocal writers’ new stories. I have my favorites that I’m subscribed to, and I try to read as much of their content as possible while liking and commenting meaningfully. Then I peruse the top stories. Sometimes they jump out at me because of the title and subject—and preferably a short read time—because my ADHD is my constant companion all day, every day.

I will take my time today because I have no intention of going anywhere else for the next 24 hours.

Oh, Sara Wilson, you Cappie Queen, as they call you… your stories are delightfully dark and cynical while still maintaining joy and intelligence. Always a good read. It’s no wonder so many people read and comment on your stories.

Oh, look, an alert that Dharrsheena commented on another one of my stories. She is such a sweet and kindhearted champion of the people. I wonder why she doesn’t write more? I’m newer here, but she was a writing force to be reckoned with a few years back. Either way, her comments always make me feel seen and appreciated. Such a lovely spirit in that girl, despite whatever challenges she faces on a daily basis.

Paul has a new wild alt-humor story. This Scot gets me and my twisted sense of humor. I know if I say something completely off the wall that I think is funny in the comments, I won’t have to apologize or explain myself because he gets me.

These are my people.

I bet we would be friends in real life. Or maybe the inherent boundaries created by our distance are what make our limited daily interactions so pleasurable.

Either way, I like it, and I like them.

They aren’t the only ones. I have made lots of new friends in this magical world of literary prowess. They challenge me in different ways, and their perspectives and honesty in sharing make me feel akin to them and not so alone in my weirdness. I sit in awe of their perspectives and artistic talents. So many of them explore areas of art outside of just writing, but this craft allows us to share those things with each other as well.

Oooo, young Tanya wrote a new story!

She is in and out. That’s perfectly understandable since she appears to be a college student with a heavy schedule. She reminds me of my daughter if my daughter could express her struggles and experiences as eloquently. I apply the lessons I learn from Tanya’s stories to my dealings with my own sweet child.

Thank you, Tanya, for letting me into your rich inner workings.

It matters.

At least to me.

I’m learning new things about my newest friends as well from their writings, like Tina, Annie, Chel, Lana, Julie, Sun Bee, Calvin, Laura, Rachel, Crystal, Rowan, Tim, Lamar, L.C., Imola, John, and a growing list of new friends…

There are so many new stories to read, but if you post more than one—or a particularly long one—on any given day, I probably won’t be able to read them all. But today I’m not going anywhere, so I’m going to try to read them all and comment.

If I can’t read it, then I’ll at least like it, though I know that feels like kissing your sister to the author. I’m doing the best I can to support you here. 🤷🏻

Next, I read the new Vocal Challenge prompts again to see if there are new ones and to search for inspiration for the next part of my day… writing.

Between the stories I’ve read and these prompts, coupled with the first cup of coffee doing its caffeinated magic on my mind, the mental wheels start moving.

I will try to write one new story based on a prompt that means something to me. I care less about winning a challenge and more about the psychological benefits of pouring out my inner world into an external representation of it for others to experience.

Sometimes they relate to it in a way that makes me feel a little less like I’m the crazy one.

I am, but only because toxic people in my life made me crazy.

These stories help me compartmentalize all the trauma in a way that clarifies its cause and effect in my own mind. This seems to help me manage the damage and make better choices moving forward. If someone else can benefit from the lessons of my negative experiences, then I have the satisfaction of putting some good into an otherwise difficult world.

I’m finding it hard to describe my perfect 24 hours without writing a story that will take 24 hours to read, so I will sum up the rest of my day.

I also write jokes, trade stocks and crypto, and dabble in my multiple businesses. I figure out a way to record social media content for my collectibles business from my bed.

My daughter is making herself a nutritious breakfast from the groceries I had delivered. She offers me some as well, since I can see her at the stove when my bedroom door is open. She shares some with me to help me keep my strength while I’m lying in my bed.

We chat about her thoughts and feelings and all the hypotheses she has developed overnight. I listen and try not to correct any of her ideas that have little basis in reality. I contemplate whether she is too sheltered for her age or whether I have done a good job protecting her from the cruelty outside the culture of safety and respect that we call home.

Like the negative influence of the outside world, I will put away negative thoughts as well.

We are happy.

She is safe.

I’m cozy.

This is where I will stay, at least for today.

She is free to come and go as she pleases, though she too likes her own cozy space.

When I feel I have been as productive as I am going to be from my sanctuary of pillows, I allow myself to watch television. I stream a documentary because I am fascinated with history and how the world got into this condition. It also makes me feel educated and less like a vegetable.

After I’m satisfied that I’ve learned a sufficient amount of new information, I switch to silly, stupid comedies that suit my goofball personality.

Then I watch something relatively easy that’s not going to keep my attention so enthralled that my mind won’t relax enough to get back to sleep.

After a long day of doing nothing, I need at least eight hours of meaningful sleep.

So that is my ideal 24 hours.

The only thing that would make it better is if I had someone who could hang out next to me. I probably won’t find her if I don’t get out of this beloved bed, so tomorrow I will leave this safe haven and go out into the world.

If only to find someone to bring back with me to the sweet serenity of my bed.