Bedding

As promised, I went to a shop called Bed, Bath, and Beyond! (my Oxford comma) to purchase bedding. Like everything American this place was huge, and was laden with stacks and stacks of household items along with an equal number of newly-arrived students karting them out. I made my choice simple enough by locating the cheapest bedding I could find, which was easy enough for everything except the duvet. All I wanted was a duvet. Could I find something labelled a "duvet", could I hell as like. I found a duvet cover, so presumably the things existed, but all I found was a bewildering array of fiberbeds (sic), featherbeds, comforters, alternate down blankets and alternate comforters, each with a "threadcount" and some special reason why it was the best thing you will ever have the fortune to buy (for only $399 plus tax!!!). Even the pictures didn't help, because they all depicted smiling, seriously comfortable people lying ON TOP of the particular bedding item. Were these some kind of mattress covers? Is that what "comforter" meant? Well, in the end I thought bugger this for a game of soldiers and just bought something that at least looked like it should be a duvet, even if it's designed to, I don't know, drape over the walls or something. So I ended up lugging two pillows, a possible duvet, and all associated sheets and coverings (including shams - what is a sham? I have no idea, but I now own two of them) the mile back to my apartment (see - I'm getting used to the lingo). Once there I unpacked it all and realised that I'd bought the world's worst sheets/coverings and that the pillow cases were far too small to fit the pillows in. Undeterred, I pumped up the (single) airbed and ceremoniously covered it with the (double) sheets etc. Tired out from my walk I flopped onto the bed for a well-earned rest. Only to find that the airbed was quietly deflating, slowly but surely dumping me on the floorboards. A quick inspection revealed underneath what is technically know in the trade as "an 'ole". Bugger. This now being half past nine at night I wasn't in the frame of mind to tramp all the way to a shop in the hope of them selling a puncture repair kit. So, I resigned myself to the floor for the night, and surprise, surprise I had the worst night's sleep I've had in a long time. Never mind, the good ol' jet lag kicked in this morning, waking me up at 5am anyway. The consolation is that I discovered my morning walk to work involves crossing the "BU bridge", which allows a spectacular view of Boston (photos pending) that I paused and gazed at for a good few minutes, and I'm sure I will every day.