still I lie sleepless

I'm always hot. It's most annoying when I try to sleep. In that trickster way that the Universe seems to enjoy of pairing couples who run at opposite ends of the hot/cold spectrum, my wife is always cold. The thermostat wars are played out most fiercely in bed, she with her electric blanket on high, me with my fan(s) and brutally cold air, whether from an open window in the winter or an AC set so low it's ecologically criminal in the summer.

To make it even more difficult, I can only sleep really well covered by a heavy blanket - and by heavy, I mean weighty. But then, of course, I burn up.

I look at these thick, plush beds below and I'm torn: oh, don't those look divine, the perfect heft to snug you down to sleep...and, oh my god, don't those look frightfully hot, guaranteed to make falling asleep a miserable impossibility...


My wife, of course, would suffer no such quandary. She would love them unequivocally.  


What do you think?

A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by

One after one; the sound of rain, and bees
Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas,
Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky -
I've thought of all by turns, and still I lie
Sleepless...

~William Wordsworth, "To Sleep"