Whenever we win the lottery or Eugenio becomes the breakout star of Real Apartment Husbands of Orlando -- whichever comes first -- I want to buy a big ass bed. Right now we're two (and too) tired, grumpy adults pissing each other off each night while trying to defend spaces and desired positions in our polly pocket bed.

My dream-big goal includes rolling over for days and not feeling his body heat. I've been going through menopause since the age of 20 (I'm just guessing that's what my problem is). My life these past years has been one constant hot flash. Plus, we live in fucking Florida and sleep like sardines.

I work with folks who don't have homes and thus beds, so I can't complain too much without feeling ashamed, but large beds definitely make up a lot of my lustful thoughts these days. Neno dreams of fancy cars and babies; I just want a perfect, selfish night of sleep before we introduce additional chaos. Hierarchy of needs and what not.