What an experience. Enveloped in softness that betrays the firm structure underneath. Reacting in perfect harmony to every move I make and keeping up with every position I try.

My new mattress is almost a religious experience.

I bought the mattress months ago and put it on layaway, thinking I'd keep it on indefinite hold until I settled into a house, or buy it outright and put it into storage until I bought someplace.

Unfortunately, the model I bought was discontinued, and in order to make sure I got it, I had to set a delivery date. I was told by my "sleep technician" that I could set up a date, it would come to their warehouse, and I would be able to change that date before it was delivered. I planned to do that, but after I set a date to have the mattress delivered to the house, Trooper got really sick and I totally forgot to change the date.

They delivered the mattress on the day we had to put Trooper down. I had the delivery guys put the mattress and box spring into the spare bedroom, where it's sat unused for weeks.

I finally had the time and inclination to move all the beds around (the twin bed in the spare room into the attic, my former bed into the spare room and the new mattress and frame in my room) yesterday. What I thought would take an hour or so took about three, because the allen wrench I knew I had stored in the crown molding above the side window in my room was nowhere to be found. I had to call Chris to get a set of wrenches after many, many unsuccessful attempts at moving the entire bed out of my room and into the spare room. (Why every man I know does this, I don't know, but I fall into the same category. We always think that if we turn a piece of furniture just one more centimeter to the left or the right, it will fit through a doorway/hallway/stairway that is simply too small for it.)

I finally got the headboard off, the frame in, and then set about putting the bed back together. IKEA furniture is fantastic at times, but it's a pain in the ass to put back together after initial assembly. I don't know why. I think there's some sort of Swedish curse placed on it.

Second bed moved, I got the new bed into my room and put on the sheet set I'd bought for it. I sat on the bed, and it felt fine, but I didn't give it much thought until I went to bed last night.

I thought it was a little pricey when I bought it, but it's worth every penny. The pillow top is so thick. The springs are so springy. Once I lay down, I felt it contour to my back, and I knew I had made a good decision.

It's also larger than the full (Diego called the old bed a "European Queen, but in the U.S., I'm fairly certain it's just a plain ol' full) sized bed I had. I didn't think I'd notice a few more inches of room, but it's really luxurious.

I'd say that I wish I had someone to share it with, but at this point, I'm a little bit greedy with my new bed. I want it all to myself for a little while.

I had so much fun moving beds around yesterday, I decided to do it again today!

Laurie made the official move to her Mom's house today. (We've decided that moving in with your Mom around age 40 is fashionable. Moving in with your Mom is hip. Moving in with your Mom is the new black.) While she still has to pack up stuff for the movers to bring to her storage unit before the end of the month, she moved all the essentials, including the cats, her bed and her futon to her mother's house.

It being a moving day in the Spring, it had to rain, of course. I got to Laurie's house this morning and found Tefan (her landlord's 15-year-old son) out wearing the most ridiculous old-lady gardening hat I've ever seen. I said, "Nice hat!" and he curtsied. Tefan doesn't suffer from a lack of self-esteem.

Trevor (Laurie's landlord) was in the backyard planting trees. I said hi to him, and the minute I opened the door, Laurie spotted him and recruited him to help me move the heavy furniture. Luckily, Trevor is so laid-back that nothing ever phases him, so he helped me haul out the big stuff while Laurie moved some boxes and her clothes.

We recruited Tefan to move things at her Mom's house, and the job was done quickly enough. However, the room Laurie is now occupying was her Mom's spare room, and there was a twin bed in there which also had to be moved. Laurie and her Mom had a big discussion over whether the bed would go into the hallway, keeping a large couch in the office, or if the bed would go into the office, putting the couch into the hallway. Laurie asked my opinion, and I said that if I were ever to stay over, I would rather sleep in the office than the hallway, and her mother said that if I was going to stay over, I'd be staying on the futon in Laurie's room.

"The only person who's going to stay on the bed is my sister," she said.

"So you want to put her in the hall?" I asked.

We won, and the couch now resides in the hall (which is a perfect spot for it. Laurie said it'll probably become her favorite place to read) and the bed was moved into the office. Laurie's Mom has a cover that is supposed to make the bed look more like a couch, but I like the idea of a bed in the office. It makes you seem more serious about your work.

The cats were also transported to the new house. Sam and Harry seemed to take it in stride, but GreyKitty was still a bit freaked out by the whole concept of moving by the time I left.

At least she has a good number of beds to hide under.

I got home from Laurie's and found this in the dining room:

When Mom was pregnant with Chris, the women she worked with at Hewlett Packard threw her a shower and bought her this cradle. Chris, Sean and I all slept in it, and she passed it on to Chris and Susan, who never used it because the bars around it are now considered too wide to be safe for a baby. Chris put it in storage in his house, and Mom has been bugging him to drag it out since Sean and Heather announced they were going to have their first child.

Chris, being Chris, didn't pay much attention to this request. He's a great guy, but when Mom asks for something, he waits until she actually shows up on his doorstep demanding whatever it is she wants before going looking for it. With Sean and me, he's much more acommodating, mostly because we will show up on his doorstep the same day we make a request.

Sean apparently said, "Brother, give me the cradle," and Chris found it. Sean is planning on making sure that it's up to safety standards, and Mom is thrilled that Emma will be using the cradle she loves so much.

Despite a melamine bottom, it's all lightly-stained wood (the picture doesn't do it justice) with brass fixtures. It's a lovely piece, and now almost 40 years old. It wouldn't garner anything on Antiques Roadshow, but it's the closest thing to an heirloom piece we have, and I'm glad it's being passed down.

In non-bed related news, I blew serious chunks at rehearsal tonight.

I thought I had Act 2 down pat, but I missed last week's run-through of it because of my allergic reaction, and I hadn't looked at that part of the script until this afternoon. In my room, I was just fine. I knew all my lines, had some good takes on some of the jokes, and felt totally ready for tonight's rehearsal.

We had to make a casting change because of a family crisis for one of our cast members. John, the new cast member, is taking on a role that only has one scene, so he should be able to integrate pretty quickly. However, that first scene is in Act 1, and after we ran through it three times, Act 2 was somehow magically knocked right out of my head.

I don't mind calling for lines, but usually once prompted, I can finish out a line. Not tonight. Tonight, I had to have entire paragraphs read to me before I had a clue what I was supposed to say. And every "What?" "How's that?" "Where", etc. threw me. Every other line I speak is a question, and they're all similar in structure, which isn't an excuse for being as horrifyingly bad as I was tonight, but gives me some small comfort.

It got so bad that at the end, where I pause while trying to make sense out of the events that occured, the stage manager kept prompting me. Eventually, I said, "I didn't forget the lines, I'm emoting!" She couldn't be faulted; I really sucked.

Rick (the director) said that he wasn't going to beat a dead horse tonight (I wasn't the only one having a hard time; I was just the worst), and let us out early. On the way home, I repeated the lines out-loud and got them out perfectly. Maybe I'm only cut out for one-man shows. By myself.

Tomorrow night is the first run-through of the entire show, and I vow to be completely off-book and line-perfect. After seeing two very well-acted shows this weekend, I'm more motivated than ever to nail this production.

I'm taking my script and going to bed.

Ah, BED!