Finally, I have the apartment personalized to fit all of my possible sleeping needs and desires. (And what other needs are there? Well, eating of course, but the only way I could satisfy all my eating needs and desires would be if I moved into a Kentucky Fried Chicken.) The queen-size bed was the final piece in the puzzle. I'd say I spend about 50% of my time there, when I feel like stretching out or if I want human company. (My mom, vibrant academic that she is, spends 95% of her time in bed). In case I'm more in the mood for the kind of company I can place in my jaws or knead, I brought my blue elephant up there. I also have a couple pig ears, in case I want a midnight snack and mom is too comatose to be prodded to the refrigerator.
All that company in the bed, though, is not always what an independent girl wants. Fortunately I have a variety of other options. If I want my own space but still want the elevation and stretching room of a bed, there's the futon (aka, the old bed). That's cool, because I can stare straight across at mom, like we're in a hotel or something. When I feel like having a more traditional doggie experience, but a pampered padded doggie experience, there's the leopard-print doggie mat on the floor by the side of the bed. Sometimes though I get a sort of nostalgic need to return to the womb, in which case I can hop over to the doggie kennel, which is padded with Dale's baby blanket. If it's hot, or I really want to go back to my undomestic roots, there is the floor. Not that I've tried it yet, but it is there.
When I want to get away from it all--apartment, humans, light--I head for the closet. The closet has an added plus of the dirty laundry bag, full of fascinating smells (although as the week goes on, they smell more and more like me), and the option to arrange the bedding exactly to my comfort preferences. Since it often takes a good half hour of digging and turning in circles to layer the various garments in the ideal configuration, I make sure I have a full supply of bones and toys in there. You don't want to get everything just right only to realize that you need a panda in your jaws and it's all the way across the room. The only problem is that every once in a while the laundry bag is inexplicably depleted.
So basically, if I could just get those bookshelves out of there, the entire room would be dedicated to my sleeping experiences. It's like having a 6 bedroom apartment...all in a studio.