1. First, as I walk the narrow space around the foot of the bed in the dark to get to my side, I need to run my thigh into the sharp corner of the wooden bed frame. Must. Stifle. Cry. Of pain.
2. After I'm finished swearing silently (but violently) at the bed frame, I need to disrobe. But, the crazy woman I share my bed with likes the window open at night. Even if it's 2° outside. This gaping maw to the frozen tundra is conveniently located on my side of the bed, about 3 feet from where I sleep. This not only contributes to the frosty nip in the air in our bedroom, it also provides me with a frozen hardwood floor to stand on while I peel my socks off. Brr!
3. Then, swearing silently (at myself this time), I clumsily take the rest of my clothes off as my feet develop the beginning stages of frostbite (Why do I always take my socks off first? Why can't I learn this lesson?). I try not to fall over as my pajama leg gets caught on one foot while I'm balancing on the other. Reaching for the nightstand to steady myself, I need to knock over the lamp. I don't know why I need to do this, I just know that I do.
4. Listen for Trish rolling her eyes in the dark.
5. Now, I take my glasses off and place them just on the edge of the nightstand so that they fall in between that and the bed. Of course, I can't just bend over and pick them up. No. It's gotta be a process. I need to get down on all fours and reach under the bed and root around in the dark. Everyone knows that you don't let your hands or feet hang off the edge of the bed while you sleep. You know... because of the monsters. Everyone knows this is a natural law of nature, naturally. But here I am, in the dark, on my hands and knees, with my whole arm underneath the bed! Where the monsters live!
6. Plugging in my phone for the overnight charge is a necessary step, and should not be forgotten! My phone is my only alarm. And it has all my reminders. I need access to those at all times. This is not optional. My obligations to the world depend upon it.
7. I need to pull open the covers to climb in. There, I will find four pillows in various states of disarray. At least one is likely to be missing its pillowcase. Then I'll need to root around under the sheets to find it, and fumble in the dark to try and put the pillowcase back on. I'm still standing barefoot on the ice cold hardwood floor, by the way. Let's not forget about that important detail. There is a light frost forming on my toenails at this point.
8. Once I have all four pillows situated in their proper places (one is for my head, one is for my knees, another for my feet, and the last one is to hug my arms around), I can finally proceed to climb into bed.
9. Squirming (A word she uses during this phase. She also likes to use "bouncing", and "fooling around".) is the only way to get comfortable. The pillows have to be just right and the blankets need to cover all the necessary bits. Beyond that, there are dozens of little folds and creases in the sheets and pillowcases that need to be smoothed out. God forbid that I can feel a fold under my back or against my face on the pillow! Sleeping with a pillowcase crease against your cheek is pure madness.
10. The final phase of getting in bed is the "toss & turn" phase. This is where I start on my left side, then flip over to the other side, then flip to my back. Repeat. Each movement must be accompanied by a serious of grunts. Disturbing of the blankets is also necessary.
Each of these steps is absolutely crucial to my process, while each step gets me closer and closer to sleeping on the couch.
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