I did manage to get my bed together after spending a week sleeping on my couch, which I was actually rather happy about initially since it is the best couch in the world and I had dearly missed it, but then it eventually turned back into just sleeping on the couch, thus I had to
And then I remade it with the same sheets I'd been using, which if my memory serves at all must be somewhere in the neighborhood of 15 years old and are most definitely looking every year of it at this point.
And that made me very sad.
(In all fairness, my mother did have the bed neatly made with much newer and nicer guest sheets when I arrived a year ago, but they never managed to feel like anything other than guest sheets to me, so at some point I elected to use the old ones instead.)
However, it was still a few more weeks before I got around to pulling out the large trash bags full of bedding from our house and digging out the couple sets of sheets I knew were in there.
But then, I realized something as I gazed at those sheets.
I didn't WANT to sleep on them.
Admittedly, they were exceptionally unappealing as Peter had spent the couple months between when I left New York and when we packed up the house sleeping on them without managing to use the washing machine and then the subsequent 8 and a half months in storage didn't exactly freshen them up a whole lot.
But even clean, they would still be most certainly stained from Peter. I never did figure out why, but something about the temperature he sleeps at and sweats at during the night with his body oil secretion and chronic lack of pajamas made it so he ALWAYS stained the sheets horribly even when they were being washed on a weekly basis (and believe me they were, because he also made them smell icky in that staining process, and I have a weird compulsion against sleeping in smelly bedding).
And as I stood there looking at them more and more, I remembered how I had picked them out not because I really liked them but because I thought Peter wouldn't mind them.
He always held a staunch and overly verbal position against floral bedding.
But see, Peter's not sleeping on this bed any more. Which means he won't be staining any more sheets or voicing stupid butthead opinions about not liking roses ever again.
It's bad enough I will be sleeping on what was our bed for the next 20 years, I most certainly do not need to be sleeping on sheets the reek (and I do mean that in every possible context) of him as well.
And so I went out the next day (ok ok, I just stopped by the sheet section Target after work, but it was still a very conscience, if lazily and ultra-conveniently done, decision) and bought myself a very nice set of purple floral pattern sheets. I have big plans to get a nicely matching purple quilt set as well, but as I am presently really trying to watch spending and avoid further financial upheaval as much as possible it may be a few paychecks until that part.
But it will so happen.
Because I'm an adult, and I can just go buy a set of sheets if I feel I need new sheets. And I can choose any set of sheets I damn well please.