R.I.P My Mattress:
It’s been six years since I’ve bought a mattress and the sack of newspaper I’m sleeping on now has had its day. If I drift too close to the center, it buckles and I end up like the filling in a taco shell. “When you sleep like guacamole,” my friend Laura said this morning, “it’s no good.”
So off I went to European Sleep Works in Berkeley yesterday. The store underwrites several programs on KQED and in their spots, recite a bunch of scientific who-ha about “coil depth” and “independencing sides.” I planned to gather some expert opinions and then shop around. I left with a rediculously expensive mattress and an elaborate justification: I’m investing in good sleep over the next 15-20 years and avoiding taco rest forever. If it means raman noodles for the next 8 months then, eh, it means raman noodles. With pepper if I can afford it.
They’re very good salespeople.