I just performed the herculean task of flipping and turning the Queen size VERY HEAVY and UNMANAGEABLE mattress all by my lonesome little self. This was not fun, the mattress was winning the whole way, it weighs 8 million tons, wielding it artfully is out of the question. The mattress actually sways and waves, like it's doing the hula dance. Things get out of control very quickly, like the dumb mattress grabbs the lamp chord and over goes the lamp -- you know, all kinds of fun stuff like that, including my good shirt and pants getting picked on the rough wall.

In fact, I have no idea how I turned it solo. Furthermore, this was stupid . . . really not smart. Further, furthermore, I think traditional box springy mattresses and their foundations need to hit the road or swim to the bottom of the ocean or something. Send them to outer space. Honestly, there has GOT to be a better way. Then of course, the box spring cover was more soiled than a light vacuum could fix. Then you have to dust all the bed frame edges and slats and pick up stray hairs. I kept repeating the mantra I learned on The Ways of Her Household blog: DONE IS BETTER THAN PERFECT, DONE IS BETTER THAN PERFECT. I got to thinking, Maybe Not Done is Better than Imperfect Done. Flipping the mattress tests my sanity and spirituality about as much as painting a tiny closet. The less I do of those two rare forms of torture, the better off I am.

Of course, I flipped the mattress to save my back because the mattress was really starting to do the dip in two appropriate places, which wasn't helping back matters. However, wrenching the old back to get said mattress off and back on the bed frame about killed what was left of my back. So . . . drum roll . . . the point, please?? By the way, I hope you notice the word plays that are going on here, not premeditated, of course, but there they are.

So, in my next life, I am going to have a platform bed with no foundation box spring. There, that eliminates one nuisance. It will feel like sleeping on the ground, but the mattress being that much closer to the floor means less hoisting come mattress flipping time. That's my theory, anyhow, and I don't see anything wrong with it. Actually, I hear the new mattresses don't need flipping. That's enough to make me go out and buy one right now, even though our current mattress is only 4 years old, if that. Life is short, and like I've said before, it's getting shorter. Anything to save mental aggravation and herniated discs.

So, where is my dump truck?? I was going to write something lofty tonight, like, Gather all your pain and hurt and let the dump truck cart it off. Just load her on up and tomorrow is a new day. This might seem simplistic, but, on the other hand, don't you think the modern girl makes things more complicated than they need to be? Just ask KEM, Queen of Complication. Didn't I already blog about how Uncle Pete used my innocent question, Do you have a salad spinner?, to launch into a tirade about how I make such a big deal of things? Everythings.

Well, I need to dump my frustration with the mechanics of life onto the dump truck. I'm going to go stretch out my frazzled spine, take a hot shower and lower my worn little self onto the less worn side of the mattress, plus clean sheets. Had to get those out of the deal. Clean sheets are the best, right up there with egg salad sandwiches.

Mike wants you to know that the greased up cookie sheets were VERY CLOSE to the frying bacon. And that's why they got greasy but the piano did not. That's his lousy little theory, and I'm stickin' to mine.

Guess what? When I was doing laundry tonight my blame-it-on-Mike-lost-sock turned up. Ain't that just dandy. My contrite apogies to Mike. This doesn't mean, however, that he gets to mess with the laundry now. I prefer to make a mess of it all by myself.

Such a good dumb wife to let Mike sleep on his recliner instead of summoning his presence to partake in Mattress Mayhem,
KEM