I love my bedroom. It is my retreat, my refuge, my sanctuary, my boudoir. I go there to rest, hide, think (yes, I do that), and love. The room is painted in two seemingly opposing colors: a passionate plum and a warm golden yellow. At first glance, you would think these two colors would clash and cause chaos, but they don't, they blend together in a strange harmony...much like my personality. My bed is huge, the mattress comfy with an underlying firmness, and plush softness on top...much like my physical body, haha, the similarities abound! There's one huge window that allows the sunlight in, in all it's blazing glory, which made me go out and get a set of thick, dark curtains to tame the blinding desert light and heat. In my room, I also have a huge comfy chair, a tv and various dressers and night tables. I have everything to sustain me in times of required rest. I needed that rest two days ago when I came down with, what I think was, food poisoning. I woke up that morning and knew I wasn't 100%. My first words to my mother-in-law were, "I'm just not feeling right." That morning I attempted to go about my normal day, but by early afternoon I knew something was up (literally), and I crawled upstairs to my bedroom. Feverish, chilly and achy, I fought the queasiness in my stomach by sleeping and watching bad tv. It brought back memories of being sick when I was pregnant with my daughter: 2 solid months I spent in that bedroom (different bed, back then I had the "Klingon" bed, all solid firmness, no plush) feeling like I had the worse combination of motion sickness and a hangover, wishing I could be put out of my misery, and saying that this kid better be worth it (she is :) ) So, whenever I'm sick, angry, tired, or just need some time alone, you'll know where to find me...in my retreat, my refuge, my sanctuary, my boudoir...my bedroom.
bedroom
