I should buy a new mattress. I have a relatively new one, newer than the one I slept on for give or take fifteen years. It's soft and most people would probably describe it like "sleeping on a cloud!". A reference I never quite understood for it is impossible to actually lay on a cloud, as far as I know.

I've slept on my fair share of couches, floors, hostels beds, sketchy buses, and impossibly small airplane chairs. Not one of these has hurt my back as much as this cloudy mattress. I complain to my parents of course, they are the ones who passed it down to me.

"Why don't you buy a new one then." My dad, always the realistic one.

"Because new ones are a thousand dollars. Don't you know how many plane tickets a thousand dollars can buy!?"

This is the part of every dinner with my parents when my dad rolls his eyes and goes off on his dad rant about how I need to save my money instead of trampsing off to new countries every year. But spending money on sensible things? Sensible is so boring. I don't want to be sensible. Mattresses don't make me happy. They don't make my heart race or teach me how other people live and they certainly don't broaden my life.

So, I'll continue to endure a small amount of back pain but in return, I'll be spending half of February in Thailand and Cambodia next year.

Sorry dad.

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