Last summer I suffered from headaches almost every day. I didn’t even at first notice it was daily, until I heard myself complaining to my sister-in-law. The fourth time in a week.
A few days later, I told my brother I think I need to get rid of a wisdom tooth or two, as I believed that was the reason for my headaches. My brother said something very simple, yet profound; “If that’s what you’ve come to, you’re probably right”. Both of us laughed at the sort of precocious statement, but as he tried explaining what he meant, I interrupted by saying I understand completely.
That same sassy sentence came to me suddenly today after having written that short post on me thinking my futon is bad for me. Truth be told, the thought has actually crossed my mind before, but I have not said it out loud, like I did last week on two different occasions.
You know how it is. As long as you keep it out of broad daylight, it stays unconfirmed.
The thing is, I keep doing all those exercises assigned to me by the torturer. And they do help. For that very moment. But it seems all the effort I keep putting in is simply erased when I go to bed. The next morning I will wake up feeling 85 again, ungracefully trying to get out of bed.
Interestingly enough, last year, which I spent more or less everywhere but in Helsinki, my back was feeling much better. Well, at least most of the time. A really soft bed will be even worse. Which is why I got the futon in the first place. But there’s a huge difference between a somewhat firm mattress and a rock-hard futon. It only took me five years to reach this conclusion. Hurrah!
And now, realising I’m probably right, I need to get a new bed. And sell this one. Anyone in need of a futon? They are supposedly good for you…