I realize that our country is imploding. I am aware that there are an abundance of other issues to consider, and that my corner of the world is pretty stable, but I have to be real with you all. I am suffering. I am suffering from the insanity that involves air mattresses.
For those of you, who have been on the crazy train with me on this one, you get me. You have heard my cries for help. Well, let’s just say, another one bites the dust. Number 3, friends. My spouse and oldest, adopted the concept of watching television on an air mattress early in the pandemic. Fine. You do you, boo. But, then I kept hearing the grating sounds of re-inflating because there was a hole or maybe several. It’s like a sinking ship that my adorable family members were desperate to save – over and over again. Because I just want them to leave me alone, I ordered two more (not at once) in the duration of the six months we have been living in the reality drama, “Shit Show 2020”.
I know what you are thinking. You’re thinking I am enabling them. You are partially right. Mostly, I can’t stand to hear the constant inflation process. But, not this time Satan. I stand strong in the ability to not hit an Amazon “buy again” button just because those two can’t take proper care of the item in question. It’s not like there isn’t a sofa and recliner down there for them to use while watching their mindless shows.
Some of you might say, that the items have been defective. Nope. It is all them. They never put it up, so it just lays there like a lazy slug. It also might be our cats who don’t enjoy their path to their litter box being partially blocked. Sure, they could go another way or squeeze by, but why should they? It’s their home too.
I also blame 2020. It’s a blanket statement since there are too many items to address. I also have an unhealthy resentment of air mattresses that will probably require therapy. Jesus. Probably have to wait in line for a therapist as I feel they will be busier than ever. Thanks, 2020. You’re an asshole.