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Done, done, and done.

I've needed a new bed for at least two years. In case the 1996 purchase date of my existing Sealy Posturepedic wasn't enough of a clue, there were the increasingly old-womanish mornings of stiffness. Like, if I drop something on the floor first thing in the morning, it's gonna stay down there for at least a pot of coffee (and god help me if drop the coffee beans).

So at least two years ago, I started hemming and hawing over memory foam, latex, and inner-spring. I angsted over bed height and mattress thickness. I read WAY too many reviews online. I worried about price. I worried about sustainability. I worried about disposing of the old one.

Not surprisingly, I got confused and gave up.

Taking several other bulls of procrastination by the horns lately, like the mudroom and the backyard, really must have given me a boost, because today I took care of some financial stuff (*shudder*), and when I was done facing that fear, I went out and bought myself a damn mattress.

I took the train to IKEA, stretched out for a while on a latex and then on a memory foam, asked the guy a few questions, and bought the one that felt best (the "Sultan Finnvik," firm memory foam).

They're going to deliver it on Thursday and take my old one away, and the whole thing was about one-quarter of the price I was expecting to pay.

Gah! Why this simple shit is so hard for me I just don't know. But I love these decisive, energetic days and I wish I could manufacture more of them.

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