#631 Coming back to your own bed after a long trip

Do you remember your Worst Sleep Ever? Man, I sure do. I tell you, it was back when I was in college and a few friends and I drove a skiddy van across a snowy highway in the middle of a blizzard to crash with my friend Chad. It was a cold weekend full of laughs and catching up with friends who had all been yanked apart after prom and high school gradumacation. Now, it was late Friday night in this quiet college town when a few of us headed home to hit the sack. Of course, there were no fresh linens, soft pillows, or fluffy towels laying on pull-out beds there. Nope, all we had in that cold, dark basement were a couple ratty couches, a hollow wooden door to the blizzard outside, and a giant wall full of cheap ticking clocks all set to different timezones. Well, what choice did we have? We made little beds from couch cushions, used sweatshirts for pillows, and covered our shivering bodies with zippery, snow-smeared winter coats. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the clocks…