Tonight I must go to bad early.
It’s not that I want to be naughty, you see, but my bed has simply lost its ‘E’. This leaves me with nothing but a wicked mattress and a pillow-of-sin situation.
Honestly, it’s a nightmare. I tried to rest my weary head, but instead of sweet dreams, I had sweat dreams, tucked into a blanket of sheer malice. My alarm clock doesn’t ring anymore; it just maliciously ticks down the seconds of my life. The sheets have an absolutely deplorable thread count, and even my pyjamas have turned completely wicked, trapping me in a straitjacket of stripes.
I asked my duvet for comfort, but it just gave me the cold shoulder. The ceiling fan is plotting something, and I swear it’s twirling its moustache. Don’t get me started on the memory foam either. It remembers every single embarrassing thing I did and refuses to let me forget.
So yes, tonight I must go to bad early. I just hope tomorrow morning I can finally wake up on the right side of the good bed.
