Which side of the bed do you sleep on? Me? The middle. Why? Because I can.
I do use the nightstand to my right. That’s where I keep my Stanley water bottle, my OG black Chapstick, my New Yorker Magazines, and there may be some Dove and Cadbury chocolate in there. I do have another nightstand for the sake of continuity, and I call it my boyfriend’s. (There’s no boyfriend.)
Why do we choose one side of the bed and claim it as our own? I challenge you to trade once in awhile. Sleep on the other side. Be adventurous.
When Roger was alive (Does she always have to refer to her life with him? Yes, I do.), we had designated sides. I was always close to the bathroom, and he was always the tornado sentry near the door. When he was deployed, I stayed the same because there was no reason to take over his side.
After he died, my best friend slept on my side, I slept on Roger’s, and Baylee slept in the middle.
Why does our society stake claim on weird things like “that’s my seat” and sides of the bed? Do we latch on to any little control we can? Maybe tonight I’ll try something new and sleep on the left side of the bed, the one near the window. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Teresa Forester Adams 