17 Feb 2007

And Then There Were Origami Beds..........

Getting into bed is a fairly basic sort of operation that requires very little planning or excessive intelligence; you undress, throw the covers back, climb in and re-arrange the covers to suit.

All the sleeping equipment out here comprises of a mattress, a sheet, a pillow and a duvet. These duvets are of the zippy type. A major problem with these is that owing to excessive laundering the zippers are now of a none zip type. Zippery enough to inflict pain but not zippery enough to act as a proper zipper. As they no longer zip the results can be quite alarming. But more on that later. It must be pointed out that these duvets do not contain the usual type of filling you will be accustomed to but something like a blanket that bears too close a resemblance to horse hair to dwell on.

Just a quick note on basic bed making; pull the bottom sheet tight, fluff up the pillow, shake out the duvet and lay it over the bed. This, I'm fairly confident in saying, is how it's done in 99.9% of bed making countries in the World. And for those of you who believe the Internet has no use and is full of irrelevance, please pop along here to see some of the wealth of information available to one and all; http://www.wikihow.com/Make-up-a-Bed-Neatly

Work shifts end either at six in the morning or six in the evening. After a shower and food most people like to relax for a while with a movie, a book, continue their matchstick scale model of the Taj Mahal or just sit with empty heads and vacant expressions. The latter's also very popular during working hours.

Recently this has all changed with the arrival of the Origami Bed Maker. If you finish work at six you need to start finding your way into your bed no later than seven if you want to sleep at nine. You will find the Duvet tucked, nipped, ended, folded, {more than eight times, and I KNOW that can't be done.} and triangulated. Just take it off the bed and shake it out, right? Won't budge. It's interlocked with the precision of a Leggo village. It has to be pealed back fold by fold, tuck by tuck and in place.

As exhaustion approaches and the damn thing starts to resemble a flat bed cover of sorts the unwary may be tempted to surrender, climb thankfully underneath and fall asleep without first checking that the broken zippy end is at the foot end and not at the head end. Get this wrong and it can result, during fitful sleep, dreaming of strangling the Origami Bed Maker, of you ending up inside the duvet.

This may not be apparent 'till morning and the alarm has sounded it's tenth snooze alarm and a hasty move has to be made to make it to the morning meeting with thirty seconds to go. {Meetings are very important. They tell us.} And time is passing. You leap from your bed Gazelle like and momentarily wonder why this leap didn't result in the planned graceful landing ready to don coveralls. Instead you find yourself on the floor in a thrashing heap of disheveled humanity and duvet. Yes, you're trapped inside. The duvet and the Origami Bed Maker have you.

After the sixth terror induced bounce off the ceiling, walls and floor without finding a way out of it, and that voice screaming in your head "Must-get-to-meeting" you stupidly decide to make it there as you are. For there is no way out. The first plan is to progress as if in a sack race. This is a good idea and good progress is made for three hops but you're not ten anymore and have completely lost the knack that won you applause all those years ago. Back on the floor, close to panic, drool running freely and with eyes bulging you see the only option left is to drag yourself along the hallway. And so using the one hand you have managed to get free, your nose and tong, all accompanied by horrific gurgling, grunting and whimpering noises you drag, squirm, suck and thrash your way down the hallway as if in some personal drug induced World, looking and sounding like some ghastly apparition from a Hammer horror movie.

Finally, the door to the meeting room!! You crack the door open an inch with your free, mangled and bloodied claw-like hand totally beyond caring what the reaction will be. You need serious help to get out of this damn thing. And there, disheveled, with manic staring eyes are the rest of the crew similarly dressed and bloodied. Let the meeting begin!! Let the Origami Bed Maker die.

As a foot note to this entry, we have just discovered that the Origami Bed Maker has a brother who works for the outfit that packs the in-flight meals for long haul air lines. This answers a lot of questions............

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