i always thought of a king sized bed as being a bit bigger than a queen, but now that i have one, i can tell you that a king sized bed is an absurdity. i can sprawl out, and my husband can sprawl out, and the cat can sprawl out, and none of us are touching. i reach out in the night, and find only pillows and plush walruses. i reach further and eventually find his elbow. he rolls over the comforters to try and find me. “i have crossed oceans of bed to be with you,” he says. there is a vast expanse of bed untouched, unmapped, unexplored. the cat is still trying to sleep on my face.
one time i was in a pub in london and saw lemonade on the menu and i was like mmmm lemonade!!! but i’ve been to australia and been tricked before so i was like hey is this actual lemonade lemonade or is it just sprite and she was like it’s actual lemonade so i ordered some and she brought it back and it was sprite. i hate england