As I write this, I am laying in bed, my bed. That, to you, may not sound all that unusual. For me, it certainly is. You can ask me why, but I honestly do not have an answer as to the how comes? but I have not slept in my own bed since leaving for Afghanistan in January 2008 and when I redeployed home from Afghanistan in April 2009, I did not "return" to my bed. So, in effect, I've not slept upstairs in my house for eight years and seven months!
So I am sure you're wondering where I have been spending my sleeping hours for all this time. Simple answer. On my sofa. Was it uncomfortable? I'd have to say no otherwise, I probably would not have done that for so long.
I could say it is because the upstairs of my home is ungodly hot in the summer months, but no, I don't think that is it... and that wouldn't explain why I haven't slept upstairs in the cooler months.
I could say it was because my son slept in it for nearly two years, but no, not that either.
Some weird PTSD thing? Who knows? Like I said, I just do not have an answer.
In the end, I guess I will just have to chalk it up to one of those sweet mysteries of life. So I hope I am able to sleep tonight, my first night home--so to speak.
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