I Have a Confession to Make: I Sleep With Books

Hello. I’m Ella, I’m seventeen, and I sleep with books.

It’s kind of a problem, you know, such hard rectangles do not make very good pillows, and they are often wont to leave curious red marks on your face and body when you lie on them for too long. Beds are made for people and animals, not things. Besides, wouldn’t it be so much better, if you didn’t have to worry about rolling over into a face full of paper?

Ah, but you don’t know what lovely bed-mates books make. They don’t snore or kick*, and they don’t hog the covers. They stay where you want them until you decide to move them, and they don’t wake up really early in the morning and leave you all alone**. They don’t even get annoyed when the cats sleep on top of them! And whenever you wake up or can’t sleep, they’re there, ready to do your bidding without complaint until you drift off again.

Right now, I’ve got four books neatly piled next to the pillows and three cats curled up on the bed. I’m not quite sure how I’m going to fit, but we’ll make it work. We always do.

*About five years ago, Pippa and I had to share a bed at an hotel over Thanksgiving, and I woke up in the morning to discover that she had put her pillow on top of my bottom and was sleeping on it. I kid you not.

**It always freaks me out when I wake up and discover that whomever was in my bed when I fell asleep isn’t there anymore. In those first groggy moments of wakefulness, I become panicked that they’ve been abducted or abandoned me for good. Thankfully, the kidnappers tend to leave them in the kitchen, and the abandoners always seem to end up there, too. It must be the hip place to be at six a.m. I hear it’s got coffee and yogurt.

And as always, you can also find me on tumblr at http://emleng93.tumblr.com/, if you’re into that kind of thing.