- Oct 9, 1999
- 12,513
- 49
- 91
I mean, WHEW!
I feel more exhausted than I do after an hour at the gym.
I have spent the last two days rearranging my apartment; I did some "surgery" to my waterbed (more on that later), moved it, moved my computer out of the dining room into my bedroom, and did some other various cleaning to open up my guest bedroom so I can actually use it as such.
Okay, stupid waterbed story:
When I moved last year, I tore my waveless mattress trying to unload the damn thing out of the bed. If you've ever tried to move one once it's been full, you know what I'm talking about. Even after you drain them completely, they still weigh a good 300-350 pounds. So I just kinda shrugged, threw it in the dumpster, and packed everything else up. As I left Indianapolis I stopped at Waterbed Warehouse and bought a new mattress. "What size do you need?" the sales guy asks me. For a moment I draw a complete blank, and then, I become absolutely certain that my waterbed was queen sized. So I bought a queen sized waveless mattress, threw it in the trunk (those things are nice and light when they're empty, hehe) and drive on my merry way to Colorado.
So I get to Colorado, get everything unpacked, and put the bed together. The thought of sleep is very, very appealing at that moment, so with great gusto I tear open the mattress box, unfold it, and throw it inside bed frame.
And I stare, as the mattress seems to be a bit . . . narrow . . . for the frame. I kid you not, I stood and stared at the bed for something on the order of five minutes, muttering choice words under my breath. Let's see - I bought the mattress in Indy - 1700 miles away, and according to the phone book, the closest waterbed store was in Denver - 300 miles. So I say to myself, "Self, fsck it." I got my house, and proceeded to fill that mofo up.
One problem - my toolbox is somewhere in the middle of 1800 moving boxes, and I can't uncrank the shower head by hand. After a few more choice mutterings, I drive to K-Mart. It's 8:57pm when I get there. The store closes at 9:00.
So after a mad dash to the hardware section, I buy a pair of pliers.
So equipped, I FINALLY got the hose hoooked up and flowing. The length of the matress is fine, it's just about six inches too narrow. So I proceed to fill that six inch gap with sweaters, a rolled up comforter, etc. It worked; I left it that way for a year out of sheer laziness (I confess.)
Stupid waterbed story part 2:
So, this weekend, I get motivated. I drain the mattress Friday night and sleep on the couch. Saturday morning, I disassembled the bed and took the relevant pieces (head and footboard, the crossmembers underneath, and the center piece of the platform) and shaved them six inches short. (Fun with powertools!) I come home, put the bed together, spend twenty minutes heaving that heavy-ass mattress back into place, and grin from ear to ear as it fits perfectly. So I hook the hose up, get the water a'flowin, and hop on the computer for a while, chatting on AIM, when I look at my clock and say . . . hmm . . . what time did I start the water?
So I move into the bedroom, and gape. The water is still flowing, but the mattress has expanded to . . . well, Brando-esque proportions. The top of the mattress is bulging a good two feet above the level of the water bed rails. After a few more choice mutterings, I start draining the bed again. Anyway, my bedroom is now almost totally remodeled (still have to move the bookshelves out of the guest room), and I'm beat. Laugh if you will.
I feel more exhausted than I do after an hour at the gym.
I have spent the last two days rearranging my apartment; I did some "surgery" to my waterbed (more on that later), moved it, moved my computer out of the dining room into my bedroom, and did some other various cleaning to open up my guest bedroom so I can actually use it as such.
Okay, stupid waterbed story:
When I moved last year, I tore my waveless mattress trying to unload the damn thing out of the bed. If you've ever tried to move one once it's been full, you know what I'm talking about. Even after you drain them completely, they still weigh a good 300-350 pounds. So I just kinda shrugged, threw it in the dumpster, and packed everything else up. As I left Indianapolis I stopped at Waterbed Warehouse and bought a new mattress. "What size do you need?" the sales guy asks me. For a moment I draw a complete blank, and then, I become absolutely certain that my waterbed was queen sized. So I bought a queen sized waveless mattress, threw it in the trunk (those things are nice and light when they're empty, hehe) and drive on my merry way to Colorado.
So I get to Colorado, get everything unpacked, and put the bed together. The thought of sleep is very, very appealing at that moment, so with great gusto I tear open the mattress box, unfold it, and throw it inside bed frame.
And I stare, as the mattress seems to be a bit . . . narrow . . . for the frame. I kid you not, I stood and stared at the bed for something on the order of five minutes, muttering choice words under my breath. Let's see - I bought the mattress in Indy - 1700 miles away, and according to the phone book, the closest waterbed store was in Denver - 300 miles. So I say to myself, "Self, fsck it." I got my house, and proceeded to fill that mofo up.
One problem - my toolbox is somewhere in the middle of 1800 moving boxes, and I can't uncrank the shower head by hand. After a few more choice mutterings, I drive to K-Mart. It's 8:57pm when I get there. The store closes at 9:00.
So after a mad dash to the hardware section, I buy a pair of pliers. So equipped, I FINALLY got the hose hoooked up and flowing. The length of the matress is fine, it's just about six inches too narrow. So I proceed to fill that six inch gap with sweaters, a rolled up comforter, etc. It worked; I left it that way for a year out of sheer laziness (I confess.)
Stupid waterbed story part 2:
So, this weekend, I get motivated. I drain the mattress Friday night and sleep on the couch. Saturday morning, I disassembled the bed and took the relevant pieces (head and footboard, the crossmembers underneath, and the center piece of the platform) and shaved them six inches short. (Fun with powertools!) I come home, put the bed together, spend twenty minutes heaving that heavy-ass mattress back into place, and grin from ear to ear as it fits perfectly. So I hook the hose up, get the water a'flowin, and hop on the computer for a while, chatting on AIM, when I look at my clock and say . . . hmm . . . what time did I start the water?
So I move into the bedroom, and gape. The water is still flowing, but the mattress has expanded to . . . well, Brando-esque proportions. The top of the mattress is bulging a good two feet above the level of the water bed rails. After a few more choice mutterings, I start draining the bed again. Anyway, my bedroom is now almost totally remodeled (still have to move the bookshelves out of the guest room), and I'm beat.
Laugh if you will.
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