Another night on the air mattress

My bed was a gift, to me, from a friend. When I first moved to South Carolina, I did not have a bed. I had moved from the Wild, Wild West to South Carolina with nothing but my clothes and my obscenely large collection of books. When some friends of mine had found out that I had been sleeping on my living room floor, they kindly offered an extra bed and frame that they no longer needed. There is nothing special about the mattress or the box spring. What makes this bed The Bed of All Beds, is the frame.


This frame was hand hewn by my friend's father, from one, big, giant piece of tree. It is large. And it is heavy. When I started making plans to move, I offered the bed back to my generous friend, as his father did spend a lot of time on it. And they declined. Really.


So, now I have this monstrosity of a bed to move. A group of guys from chuch kindly offered to help move the bed, or least I thought they had offered.

My room mate came up to me after church and said, "Did you know that Goodwill will pick up your bed for FREE?"

Well. How about that.

Evidently, my bed was the topic of conversation in Sunday School. Everyone had decided that the next best course of action was for me to DONATE MY BED to Goodwill, since, evidently, they will come get it for FREE.

So, now I have no bed in my new apartment and no movers to help me move my bed, and a really sore neck from sleeping on an inflatable mattress every night.