What's Wrong With You?

My life is boring.  My sole purpose is to make you comfortable, but only for about 8 hours every day.  The rest of the time I just sit there, waiting for you to come back so that I can do my freaking job.  And what thanks do I get? Do you think I like it when you put all that weight on my face? No. My job freaking sucks.

 Most of the time you don’t even dress me properly, I sit there half naked for 16 hours. Do you know how cold it is to be left alone in a dark room half naked? Damn cold, that’s how. 

All you do is lay on me and enter some kind of comatose state.  If I had a way to make your life miserable, I would.  The best I can do is get too hot at night so that you start having weird nightmares about serial killers.  But then you toss and turn, which puts all sort of pressure on me, so that isn’t even fun anymore.   

    

I’ve heard of stories where some of my kind are so hard that not even colleges will buy them.  Those luck peeps get to go into retirement and are free for the rest of their lives.  How nice would that be? To never have a 180 pounds right on your face ever again… ah… I can’t wait until you are sick of me.

It was fine when we first started.  I was comfy and you were happy.  But now as you have gotten bigger and bigger, my job is even harder.  You don’t even sleep anymore, so what is the point?

You could at least appreciate all that I do for you.  My life is hard and lonely, there ain’t nobody like me in the cold dark room.  Just you and your creepy six foot teddy bear.  He sits in the corner and stares at me, oooh it gives me the chills. He’s a total creep. 

At the very least, dress me every day.  And get me new clothes, I don’t even match anymore. Is that really too much to ask?