You forget how good a bed is until you go a week without it, sleeping on floors or in tents. It’s so soft, so luxurious. The pillows are cool to the touch, and when it starts to warm, you just flip it over. Magical! I sunk into the sheets and had the most restful 8 hours of my life.
The hotel my father picked is extravagant. Two TVs in the room, wireless internet, a garden in the lobby, and free drinks with the cost of the room. It almost pained me to endure the opulence after being exposed to the hippie bohemian lifestyle. I can live just fine with a sleeping bag and Waffle House. But, as long as my father is with me, I resign myself to sushi and room service. What a hard life I live.
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