A Tale Told in Mattresses

Recently, someone made fun of my mattress.

To a more confident and secure person, this would have been nothing. (I am self-aware enough to know this on a purely intellectual level.) But to me, a People Pleaser and Enneagram 1, it was a signal that I should change everything in my life to appease someone else -- buy a  new mattress I cannot afford, reconfigure my shower curtains, begin shopping for a bigger TV. I am not even kidding you. When people critique something about me, my automatic response is, "I am wrong. How should I change?" 

I bought a new mattress.

I tried to get the same one I have in my downstairs room, just in a Queen and from a different vendor. At least then, I could still get my Drop points.

When the new mattress (Mattress #2) arrived, I excitedly heaved and ho'd it up my curved staircase and swore to do more cardiovascular exercises after I finally reached the top.

One week later, I knew it was a mistake to get a mattress from a brand I wasn't familiar with. I called to return said mattress...

"We cannot accept a return on this mattress. It is not under warranty," Jason from Undisclosed Mattress Vendor said.

"It IS under warranty," I assured him. "It arrived with a card that says '10-year-warranty.'" 

"MA'AM," Jason the Antagonist huffed. "You are mistaken. You cannot return your mattress!!"

I hung up on Jason. I am rude like that when frustrated.

But also, Jason was asking for it.

I sold Matress #2 on Facebook Marketplace for a $100 loss. 

I went back to the Wayfair website. I clicked on my original guest room mattress purchased a year prior. I followed the link and re-ordered the mattress in a Queen size, Drop points be damned.

Mattress #3 arrived.

One week later, after 7 sleepless nights, I contacted Wayfair. 

"You guys sent me the wrong mattress. My first mattress was a Plush. This one is a Medium...."

Wayfair apoligized. They mailed Mattress #4.

At this point, M3 is lying propped up against my bedroom wall waiting for pickup, and I am an absolute PRO at heaving mattresses end-over-end up my curved stairs. 

"I feel like this is becoming a problem," said my sister Lily.

"Yes," said my other sister, Lucy. "We have a Princess & The Pea situation going on here."

"Don't worry about it," I said breezily. "I have reordered the mattress, I am sure it's the right one this time, and now no one else is going to criticize me or it, so it's going to be just fine. I am feeling very positive this time!"

Mattress #4 arrived, and I excitedly executed my Pro Mattress Manuevers to get it upstairs. I began the 48-hour fluffing process.

Only... Mattress #4 looks like this:

ARE YOU EVEN KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW, WAYFAIR!!!? ALL I WANT IN LIFE IS A MATTRESS THAT FEELS AND LOOKS LIKE THE ONE BELOW, BUT IN A QUEEN SIZE!!!

Wayfair vowed I would receive Mattress #5 sometime later this week, but at this point, I don't honestly believe there are any mattresses out there for me.

They are either too hard and unyielding.

Or cause me great distress and pain.

Or so broken that there's no point in working with them.

"I think this is very symbolic," said Lily.

"I'm sure it is," I said, "But I do not want to think about the metaphors." 

I just want somewhere to rest.

Also, I would like to get better at saying, "Peace, Out!" to people who cannot see the person behind the mattresses... even if there are 5+ of them... :-)