Daydreams About Night Things

In the middle of the afternoon.

(How appropriate that those are lyrics from Mr. Ronnie Milsap - one of the two admitted star crushes that the 'chick has.)

Some days, the 'chick wanders the web. Just wandering, following links, seeing where it takes her. Sometimes it's because of something in a post that she decided she wanted to know more about. Sometimes, the writer even includes a handy link to take you to the place that they mentioned, to see what sparked their interest and ultimately, led to an entry.

Today was one of those days.

The 'chick was reading Crazy Aunt Purl's entry about sharing pictures of where people like to knit. She was inspired to do this because of this entry, asking for people to send pictures of their beds.

Where on earth is Roadchick going with this, you ask? Well, she's going to tell you.

The entry about "sharing beds" got the 'chick to thinking about, well, sharing a bed. (No, not like that, although that certainly does happen - the 'chick does not have her head in the sand like an ostrich.)

It occurred to the 'chick that sharing a bed with someone is one of the most intimate things that you could possibly do. Why? Aside from the sex thing, that is?

Because when you're sleeping, you're vulnerable. You're unconscious and unaware. You are exposed. (No, not nekkid, not necessarily.) By exposed, the 'chick means that you can't suck in your stomach or check to see if you've got morning breath or that your hair is perfect. You just . . . are, in all your glory, or lack of glory.

To Roadchick, sharing a bed with someone, actually sleeping with someone, takes a higher level of trust than a roll in the hay. After a roll in the hay, you can make a mad dash for the bathroom to wipe off the smeared eyeliner or do a shot of Scope. You are aware.

With the right someone, sharing a bed can make everything right in the world. It is your safe place. It's where you can curl up and watch TV or read or snuggle and just be.

With the wrong someone, it's an anxiety attack wrapped in Egyptian cotton sheets. The pressure is on. Do you snore? Kick? Steal the covers? Are you less than perfect??? Answer yes on any of those counts and it will be discovered. There is no hiding.

Not even in the dark.

So here's to the ones that accept us for who we are: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Because, honey, you might not think so, but at 4:30 in the morning - we're all ugly.