I'll take a look at a Sealy, as long as we can cuddle afterward.

I'm taking leaps into the realm of adulthood, instead of tiny steps. I make my coffee at night and set it to brew right before I wake up. I don't vomit from a flouride treatment when visiting my dental hygienist. I'm satsfied after a single beer or glass of wine ... ok, maybe two. And I now spend money on things like a car, kitchen utensils and cloth napkins instead of sorority clothing, makeup and booze.

My latest Wilt Chamberlain-esque step into my newfound adultness was made at the mecca of anything home related in the Kansas City area ... Nebraska Furniture Mart. I walked in, made my way past the in-store coffee shop and Quizno's, climbed the winding stairs to the second level of mass bargain-hunting chaos and entered the world of pillow tops and coil springs. That's right, friends. I bought a mattress set.

So my new purchase was broken up into a two-trip decision. The first time I tested mattresses out, I soon realized the sale I had thought was going on had just ended. Color me disappointed. But since The Mart runs their "Biggest Sale Ever ... never going to happen again" every two weeks, I was in luck. So I returned the following weekend and found the salesman who helped me before. I felt like that was only fair. I'm not sure if they run on commission or just warm fuzzies from a sale, but either way I wanted to help the man out.

Now this was a whole new experience for me. And by "whole new", I mean "pretty damn awkward." Let's think about it. A bed is a pretty personal thing. It's where you sleep and have intimate relations ... with books, people! (You know I don't work the other way. Sickos.) But seriously. Any sort of proper "we've just met and we'll never see each other again after this sale" relationship has jumped over the comfort line the moment you lay your toosh on that first bed. Nay, that bubble is popped the second your salesman asks you what kind of bed you prefer. "Firm or soft?" ... "Excuse me?! Isn't that a little personal?!"

Anyway, so I'm testing out all these mattresses. Laying with my hands awkwardly folded over my pudgy tummy (Taco Bueno is across the shopping center. Shutup.) I have some stranger asking me how a bed feels and I'm thinking "Look buddy, you seem nice but I prefer 6'2" Jason's, not 5'4" bald dudes." (Insert vomits here if you like.) Aren't you even going to take me to dinner first?

But luckily my two-session shopping paid off, and awkwardness was kept to a minimum because it only took me about 15 minutes to drop $700 on something that's going to be covered up with chocolate brown sheets and a crushed velvet duvet.

Well whatever. It was a rewarding experience as a new member of the adult world. Now if I could only wake up at a normal time without an alarm clock and not sleep in until 11 ... oops.