I have the most wonderful papasan next to my bed. The cushion is covered in wide waled corduroy, and is as soft as a cotton ball. In fact, sitting in tis chair is like sitting inside a ball of cotton. It's almost as comfy as being in my bed, which is even softer, being mostly layers of synthetic down. Since the chair is next to the bed, I often choose the bed for relaxing and the chair for storage. I feel badly about neglecting my chair in this way. But as it is an inanimate object, I don't feel too badly.
I just realized that I've lost several things in this chair recently. Last weekend when J was helping me pick out what to wear, we had to search several times through the piles of clothes. I wrote a letter last weekend that I'm assuming never got sent (I don't remember writing the address down or finding a stamp), so it must have disappeared under the clothes. There's a letter I wrote on Saturday that I meant to send today (it needs to arrive by Thursday), but I haven't seen it since I wrote it. I found my CT wall map (folded) in the pile last night, and I'm sure there must be at least four or five worn-but-not-yet-dirty sweaters in the mix. Hmm. Maybe it's time to clean out my chair.