So, on one of the interminable breaks for commercials today, a voice posed this question. “Do you love your mattress?” When is the last time anyone has asked you such a personal question?
Ordinarily, I would ignore such a question, deeming it beneath consideration, and all I wanted to do was get back to the golf tournament, but for some reason, I paused to reflect.
In fact, I went into the bedroom and looked at my mattress with new eyes. I walked around it, poking it, sitting on it lifting the covers, and moving pillows to further explore any unique characteristic that hitherto had gone unnoticed. After my circuit of the mattress in question, I came to find the answer to the existential question about my emotional state, and my relationship with my mattress. I did not love my mattress. But, upon reflection, I realized that I do love my pillows.
When I asked Brandy if she had any feelings about our shared mattress, she looked somewhat quizzically at me, left the bedroom and repaired to her well used towel on the kitchen counter. I took that to mean she did not love the mattress either.
Having settled that philosophical question, I went back to watching the golf tournament secure in the knowledge that while I did not love my mattress, I do dearly love golf, and I was still okay.