Blankets

 

Hello, My name is Meghan, and I have a blanket problem.

 

For about a week, I seriously considered dropping two hundo dollars on one of those fancy “weighted blankets” on Amazon. I think that week was the pinnacle of the “weighted blanket” craze, around late 2017, when the full reality of the TR*MP administration making weekly catastrophic attempts to ruin the fabric of reality as we knew it got us thinking… fabric… let’s just crawl back into bed. Let’s just crawl under a ROCK! What if we could crawl into bed AND under a rock at the same time? Thus, weighted blankets. (probably.)

 

Impulse-buying a blanket is not out of character for me. In fact, I have always spent my life collecting blankets for novelty and coziness. Fleece blankets! Furry blankets! Throw blankets! Send all your blankets my way, please!

 

Just as all things eventually come full circle, FATE has a funny way of leading up to our destinies. I am currently living in what I believe is my happiest timeline. I have a job that I love! I have the cutest boyfriend! I have three boxes of fruit snacks on my bedside table! And I live in an apartment that doesn’t have heat.

 

I don’t believe in a lot, but one thing I go back and forth believing in is fate. Most of the time, I believe that fate can kick rocks. Our lives are the result of random chance. But I think about my blankets and I can’t deny, there’s something to the whole “fate” thing. That my lifetime of accumulating blankets for fun and aesthetics was all leading me to now, so that I can crawl under a stack of blankets 6 deep to keep warm in my frigid but otherwise perfect apartment.

 

It’s like the Princess and the Pea, only in reverse. Imagine me, under a stack of heavy blankets, crushing me under their fleece. It’s kiiiiiiiiinda like a weighted blanket? Full circle. Fate? Either way, I’m living in my coziest timeline.

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