I sat here for a good few minutes, knees to my chest, wondering what could possibly be interesting enough for me to write about in my first post. “It has to be important,” I told myself, “It’s the one post you’ll look back on nostalgically and pat yourself on the back for picking such a great topic to launch the rest of your blog off of!” All the while my finger and thumb were playing with the sheets on my bed.
Then it dawned on me.
Think of the most comfortable bed you have ever slept in. It might be your own, a significant other’s, maybe even your parents’ bed when you were a kid. Think of yourself after the longest day of your life, or just the longest you can remember. Personally, the most recent longest-day-ever for me must have been the mockery that was my traveling home after a trip to Florida for a weekend. I’ll keep it short and give you the necessary keywords:
Airplane. Delay. Car Pick-Up. Forgot About Us. Air Train. LIRR. Delay. Delay. Delay.
My eyelid began twitching at the thought of it. Anyway, picture a day that does the same to your eyelid. Utter exhaustion and brain shut-down. What is the one thing you look forward to? For me, it wasn’t the sweet sound of the conductor announcing our final train stop, or the familiar smells and sounds of my house, but the ragdoll plop of landing face-down on top of these sheets that I am currently twisting in my fingers in between thoughts.
Flannel sheets they are, a weird olive-meets-forest green color with red and brown and… off-yellow? tan?… stripes. They are ugly as sin, don’t match my comforter or my pillows, but my god if these are not the most comfortably soft and single greatest set of sheets I have ever had on my bed. Laundry day? No problem, my mattress can handle being naked for a few hours until they’re done. What do you mean they’re for king sized beds and I only have a queen? That extra tuck-under ensures I won’t have to deal with the horror that is waking up with my face resting against a cold, unforgiving mattress after what I can only imagine is a case of nighttime flailing has torn the sheets from their tightly scrunched corners (life tips left and right today).
It’s a shame it’s getting warmer out, purely for the fact that these flannel sheets might cook my otherwise blissful self while I sleep.
In a nutshell, every one of you should own flannel sheets.
And that is what I have decided my first post will be about.