Tetris

Dear Skinny Girl Who Weighs 105 Pounds Soaking Wet,

I can only imagine what the insides of your closets look like, or what your suitcase looks like when you travel, because I've never seen someone use space as inefficiently as you.

You've got a queen size bed. Now, I realize I'm a bigger-than-average person, but you're way smaller-than-average. Between the two of us we should really have no problem sorting this out and getting a good night's sleep. You'd think that anyway. And yet here I was, with just a handkerchief-size piece of blanket and a chunk of mattress real estate that makes a Manhattan studio look like the Great Plains, with all four limbs dangling off the side of the bed, and with you inching ever closer like the advancing German front in WWII. How did we get to this point? It's like you're sabotaging my game of Tetris here by jamming one of those long pieces diagonally -- ILLEGALLY -- down the middle of the screen to take up as much space as possible. (See Exhibit A, artist's rendering, above).

Nobody has this limited a grasp on spatial dimensions, so I can only assume that you take up an inordinate amount of space INTENTIONALLY because you have some sort of Napoleon complex. I guess if I were that skinny, I'd also walk around with a chip on my shoulder. That's fine for strangers, but I think, Skinny Girl, for all our sakes, it would be best if you could cast the complex aside for bedmates. LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS, Attila the Hun, and let's just try and get some shut-eye in a civilized manner, mmkay?