I was lying in bed with my eyes shut. Or maybe they were open, I don’t know, I suffer from such extreme night blindness that even in moderate darkness I am sometimes unable to tell if my eyes are open or closed. Let that just sink in for moment. A person, unable to tell if their eyes are opened or closed. What is that shit? I mean really. I actually have to try and blink; if I can, then they were open. If I can’t they are closed. Honestly, once I safely tuck my iPhone under my pillow (fuck radiation) I am swimming in a void of darkness and silence (because I wear ear plugs, that is nothing to do with my eyes). When I am feeling particularly existential I like to think that literally only myself and my bed exist and we are just floating in perpetual darkness…
Anyway, as I was saying, I was in bed with my eyes either open or closed (if I can’t tell, neither can you). I was performing that peculiar style of martial arts known for its profundity at casting aside, and also re-cloaking, bedding in a single blow. I was an incredibly shitty temperature. Granted, I am usually dissatisfied with my personal temperature, but this time it was actually due to outside forces. Under the blankets: ugh, too hot. Out of the blankets: nice temperature, bit of a breeze even. And that was the problem, I was out of the damn doona.
OK, I get that very few people (meaning no one, because really who are these freaks?) like, or are comfortable without the security of at least a sheet covering them while they sleep. It’s not even that I am uncomfortable, it is more that I am hyper-aware that I don’t have my security cocoon of downy goodness covering me, then that causes this conversation to happen in my head:
“Hey, you know you don’t have your doona right?”
“Yes, I am aware, it’s hot as fuck tonight, If I put it on you’ll sweat like a bastard.”
“Yeah but, it’s weird, I don’t like it. It’s all just so… open.”
“Coolness trumps openness. Goodnight.”
“Monsters, burglars, rapists, aliens, zombies, the tax man, slender man, your boyfriends mother, YOUR mother, the North Korean government, people who say ‘totes’; they can all get you with out your doona on!!!!!!!”
This is what goes on in my/our head when I decide to cast aside the shackles of oppressive warmth. In my mind my doona is like a suit of armor repelling all the worlds evil using only cotton and goose down. Yet logically I know this is simply not true. No would-be burglar worth his or her salt is going to creep into a house, see someone tucked up in bed and think to themselves ‘well shit, I can’t very well take their playstation 4 and jewelry when they are just tucked up so nice like, bugger this for a game of soldiers, I’m going home to do the same thing’.
Despite my doona being a protective shield of super awesome protection at night, the same cannot be said for it during the day. I can’t very well just get up in the morning, do the business of getting ready, then drape my doona around my shoulders like it’s some sort of padded cape then leave the house. If anything the exact opposite of protection would be had, I would stand out like dogs bollocks. I’d be some freak walking down the street in a fucking doona, I’d probably be arrested for my own safety (just don’t take my fucking doona or so help me!). Also, if I went even further than draping it about my shoulder and went for the full on Sith Lord look I’d lose my vital peripheral vision and leave myself open for some ne’er-do-well to sidle up along side and shiv me.
So there I lay, flummoxed by one of the voices in my head clearing it’s throat when I see (or sense, still not actually sure if my eyes were open or closed) a bright flash illuminate my bedroom via my window. I roll over covering myself with doona at the same time. I can’t be bothered finding out what caused it. Whatever it is, my doona will protect me.
Also, for those not in the know, doona = duvet.