Haha I can't wait til matt goes to bed tonight and, for the first few seconds, can't figure out what's different.
We've been sleeping on this waterbed since 1990. I love it, most of the time; sometimes, too much! There is nothing like snuggling down into a heated waterbed, covered by a fluffy down duvet when it's freezing outside.
But the water in ours has gradually evaporating, and the air bubbles increasing. So it's not full enough, but it's got these big puffs of air. At the worst times, I hit bottom. It's noisy. Buster's comings and goings thru the night cause small tsunamis throughout the bed.
All we had to do is remove all the bedding, and, by removing the plug and carefully smoothing the top, get rid of the extra air. Then, secure a garden hose to the outside faucet, and unwind it carefully upstairs and hook it up to the bed. Turn on the water and voila, nice smooth, quiet bed.
However, our lives are nuts. Some days, it's all I can do to go to work, make dinner and spend the rest of the evening in a semi-vegetative state. Other days, almost every minute is pre-determined, usually by someone or something else. Don't get me wrong, we also have a hell of a lot of fun-mostly because we need it. But there's not a lot of time for household stuff, although I do manage most of the everyday things. So the waterbed's been a problem for awhile. We both realized it was bothering the other a few weeks ago. I'd mention maybe we should fix it a few times; we didn't. But today I was determined to deal with it. I tore off the sheets, bled out the air, hosed in the water. Everything took about 30 minutes, not including cleaning up (ew, if you don't vacuum the liner once in awhile, ew).
I actually like doing little projects around the house. Hanging a screen door, organizing a closet...it's relaxing and therapeutic, plus it's productive. I've been trying to make more time for things like this. I miss the days when I wasn't working when I had wide swaths of time with Willa in school and Matt at work. I had art projects, my handmade bags. I had volunteer jobs. Sometimes I'd meet friends for lunch or coffee. I worked out-a lot. But I don't know if I was actually happier then or not, when I think about it. I remember feeling grateful for the life we had, that I had. Given the choice, it's hard to say if I'd want to work at the practice; I can't imagine trusting anyone else to completely manage it.
But it's definitely time to start planning for a post-practice life, maybe a post-WV life, who knows?