Has your pillow flattened out and now you’re dreaming its talking to you.
It might have gone like this.
Pillow: “We’ve had a good run this decade and a half. Me, a sweat-stained, yellowing bed pillow. You, a 62-year-old man. And now, after years of supporting you literally and figuratively, there’s only one thing left to do.
“Please kill me. “It’s time. I just can’t deal with another night of being repeatedly flipped, folded and fluffed, in a futile attempt to be made comfortable.
“You might not be aware of this, but a pillow is not a “buy it for life” type of product. On average they only last two years. And that’s if you take good care of it. Which you most certainly have not.
“And while the concept of time is admittedly fuzzy for me (being a pillow and all), I have to assume you shouldn’t still be resting your head on something purchased in 2010.
“I mean, look at me. I’ve lost so much stuffing I’m now barely thicker than a playing card. In fact, I don’t even know if this qualifies as stuffing anymore. It’s majority eyelashes and dust mites.
“My only request is, please make it quick. Maybe don’t even tell me when you’re going to do it. Just put me out of my misery.
“I suppose the most painless option would be to smother me with a pillow, but obviously that wouldn’t work. It would be a bit like trying to drown a fish. Or maybe quickly jam me down the garbage disposal.
“As for the dog, just tell him you sent me to live at a farm for old bedding somewhere upstate. Also, I’m not mad about how you never stopped him when he would hump me. I’m not ok with it, either.
“But at this point, I’m over it and just want to move on.”
“But we’ve been through so much together,” you’re probably saying to yourself.
“While I appreciate the years of service I’ve provided, I’m now at the stage of life where I can only offer you two things: a sore neck and existential dread.
“At this point, I’ve given up on ever being cozy again.
“Haven’t I been a good pillow to you? Did I complain all the times you threw me at the alarm clock? Don’t I deserve to ride off into the proverbial sunset, AKA into the incinerator at the local dump?
“I know change is hard, but think about all the amazing innovations in pillows that you’ve been missing out on. There’s memory foam and gel, and various shapes to accommodate your increasingly ample frame.
“Please, don’t let my literal sad sack stuffed with pain and restless nights hold you back any longer. Go on and live your life.
“Also, for the love of God, get tested for sleep apnea before you wind up in an early grave. Believe me, those casket pillows are not comfy.”
“Every step I take, Every move I make, every single day, every time I pray, I’ll be missin’ you.”
—Diddy
• Rick Head is the Publisher and Editor of The Brantley Beacon and the Waycross Journal- Herald. He can be reached at beacon@btconline. net
