Speaking of leisure, one thing that did happen is I bought a king-sized bed. My husband and I have been sleeping on a full for almost 15 years, and every time we stay at a hotel, I realize exactly how much space I'm missing out on at night. After much hemming and hawing, research, and procrastinating-- king size beds are expensive-- the bed was installed on our craigslist king frame. The only bed I've ever bought before in my life was a futon, about 22 years ago, which was cheap. Very cheap. In Oakland, and I'm sure in every city across the country, there are always futons up for grabs on the sidewalks. And in other places where you don't expect to find futons, like the park, floating in the lake, and by the side of the freeway, where I can only imagine they sailed from the back of some schmo's truck. Not that I would ever put claim on a street futon, I'm just saying that you can. They are everywhere.
The bed is ridiculously large, and to clothe it, I had to literally buy acres of sheets. The bed is so huge and takes up so much of our room that it is a little silly, and there is part of me that's asking why anyone needs a bed so large that a family of four could live on it. Comfortably. But when I get into it at night I stop asking those questions. I had a hard time sleeping on it at first because I'm used being right up against another body all night, and now it's like I'm adrift on a sea of bed, and I would wake up not knowing where the hell I was. Or where Andrew was. But like a lady of leisure who gets used to doing nothing all day, I'm now sleeping just fine.
Except for the other night, when I woke up at 3 am with the thought that I had totally forgotten an order, a special order in a special color that was to be a V-Day gift for someone. With that thought comes a surge of adrenaline, not a good thing at 3 am. The adrenaline gave me enough energy to start thinking about every other little thing I might be forgetting, and how screwed up it is that I'm forgetting orders at all. Which led me into thoughts about the way things should be instead of the way they are, and how the way things are is whittling me down to a business-minded craftsperson instead of an artist. Oh yeah, it got dark. By 4 am I was tossing and turning on my luxurious bed, convinced that any life was better than the one I had. By the time I fell asleep again around 5, I had dreams that I was running my studio out of my grandmother's bedroom... man, I don't even want to get into it, but I was a complete wreck by the time I woke up. I jumped up to check on that order, and as it turned out, not only had I already made that piece, I shipped it out back in December. You may think that would make me feel better, but I just questioned my sanity even more, and wondered exactly how much longer I would need to work before I can take another month off.