The Comfy Corner

In my unceasing pursuit of the comfiest corner in the world, I have, much to my dismay, found myself in the unsettling arms of the Super 8 motel chain. As I pass through the hideously carpeted hallways that wreak of prostitution and bad decisions I begin to fully realize how spoiled I've been. Growing up, I was accustomed to vacationing in the laps of luxury in such hotels as the Hampton Inn, the Holiday Inn and the Double Tree. There, I was greeted with a smile and a warm cookie. The sunshine-bathed rooms were only magnified in there grandioseness by the crisp, clean air coming out of the AC and the "heavenly beds" that were made to perfection with loving, foreign hands. However, now that I am footing the bills, I have discovered that such luxuries come with a price tag a bit beyond my budget. So, as the classically truthful adage goes, you get what you pay for. I have been kicked out of luxurious Downton and banished to the filthy stables.

I'm currently blogging from a Super 8 in Wapakeneta, Ohio. Or as my boyfriend misheard me, "Wombat-kinetic-energy, Ohio." The dim, dusky room is furnished in what I can only guess to be resold funeral parlor furniture. The absence of a fitted sheet on my bed is all too unnerving. The mysterious brown stain creeping along the edge of the box spring is only highlighting the lack of a bed skirt. The hilariously identical, old pictures of flowers hanging above each bed does little to add anything remotely cheery to the room. In fact, they only serve to show how thoughtless and tasteless the decor is. And yet, I must sadly and honestly admit that this is one of the nicest Super 8's we have been to yet!

The last Super 8 I was in, I had the great fortune of crawling into a bed that was already occupied - with bed bugs. A first experience for me that I wish to never repeat. After a room change, a hotel change (thank you Comfort Inn across the street), a couple sleepless nights, and a thorough inspection of everything I own, I have recovered from that experience and I now meticulously examine my beds before I crawl into them. The first Super 8 we stayed in was fortunate enough to have mold in the shower that didn't actually work and a faulty toilet. The Russian mechanic that came to "fix" the shower abruptly said to me, "You must lift up for water!" And left. So, what knowledge have I wrought from these experiences? That a comfy corner is not always so easy to come by. The things that keep me sane are my Yankee candle I carry to every room I stay in, the blanket that my mom gave me, and Netflix. So wherever you are in the world, I hope you are finding your corners a little comfier than the one I'm in currently. And I hope you're grateful for it. And Super 8? I super hate you. So get it together.

Stay comfy ya'll.