I was sleeping like a log as always (Gah, I'm using a word I learnt from him ;~~~; Kitty I miss you) one night. No dream, no nightmares as usual. My alarm went on at it's usual time, 6.20 a.m, and I rolled to my left to turn it off when the bed suddenly let out a weird sound. Seconds later, I found myself being dropped to the floor, my left hand stretched to find stability (which hurts cos it hit the bed's frame). The left side of the bed has tilted. Correction. The left side of the bed has collapsed. Collapsed, man.
And that wasn't the first time. Though I think this time was the worst collapse I ever encountered. Yes, my bed has a very harsh way of telling me I am heavy. The heck, I am not even that heavy!
Bleep you, bed. I hate you. Oh wait, I can't use that strong word. Kitty doesn't approve. Sobs. Kitty, you have give quite an impact in my life, see? Come back! T__T Bed, I dislike you with burning passion.
I thought this bleeping bed will never ever ever collapse again, because the last time it collapsed, I have my Dad fixed it for me. He nailed here and there and fixed here and there and did the what-not. I was pretty confident that that would be the last time this bleeping bed will get hammered. But I guess not.\
Do you know how hard it is for me to hammer this bleeping bed? My room is small, the smallest in the house, I think. And the bed fits just right in the room. Beside it is my wardrobe. Very close next to it. The bed sure can't move anywhere. So when I want to fix the bed, I can't move it to the side, because of the wardrobe, and on the other side is the wall. And it so bleeping hard to disassemble the bed in that small space. I get frustrated just by thinking I couldn't move it anywhere, plus the frustration to disassemble it in that small space, plus Malaysia's humidity,
plus worrying and missing Kitty. I dislike fixing my bed with burning passion because it is really burdensome and tiresome and frustration-some.
Usually when the bed collapses, I will try to fix it on my own the next day. I will try fixing it by myself first, I don;t like to burden people though it was very hard to do it alone but yeah. I am that kind of person. Bang here bang there knock here, knock there. When it was OK again, I will crawl on bed slowly, afraid that it it break again. Oh my fragile bed. You are worst than a glass.
Now I don't feel like fixing it anytime soon. I'm tired. I'm done. I will sleep on the floor. Bleep you again cos I just tidied my room, the you have to go and crash now my room is like Infinite's old dorm all over again.
This bed has been with me since like maybe more than five years ago. Ask for a new bed from Dad? I wish. Dad have gotten me so many things already. That phone, that car (which I still have no money to pay for), that pretty cloth for convocation which the price is askdhajdhasjdha. I don't dare ask. I don't even dare to ask Dad to fix the bed. I will fix it, later. When I feel like I want to. Meh.
Is this the drama that I wanted?