Life is tough for a memory foam mattress. Sure, if the chips are down, I tend to bounce right back, although there’s a distinct lack of spring in my step.

Truth be told, I’ve got a right to feel anxious. I’ve just left the factory and I’m headed on my way to meet ‘The Buyer’. That’s what we call him back at the plant. No one has ever come back when they’ve been taken to see him. You hear stories – the kind that make your lining crawl. Fellow memory foam mattresses sold on to god-knows who, most of the time at knock-down prices. People ‘having a go’ before they part with their cash. If I had bones I’d be sick to them!

These could very well be my last words, so I’d like to spend them reminiscing about life back at the plant. Things were good then. Memory foam stretching as far as the eye could see. A bit of light resistance testing before lunch, followed by a massage in the afternoon – that always used to leave a good impression!

Someone once told me my grandfather was an astronaut in the 70s, went into space with NASA no less, so I come from pretty good stock.

Anyway, we’re close now; I can see signs for discount beds.

If I survive my meeting with ‘The Buyer’, I may write again…Sleep well!