Not until last night, at least. And getting that sleep required sleeping on the floor.

Because the fucking floor is more comfortable than the three-inch-thick foam mats Darlene replaced our mattresses with.

Yes, you heard right. The Women's Shelter Director took our fucking mattresses and gave us prison cot mats to sleep on. They're essentially thin-as-balls slabs of upholstery foam, and nothing else (though a couple of them have metal springs that dig through the foam and into the sleeper.)

They retain heat like motherfucking brick ovens, keep you from moving or rolling over (if you're an active sleeper like my, you have to wake up in order to move,) collapse down to about one centimeter thick at the slightest pressure... In short, they're not fit for animals to sleep on, much less human beings.

After three nights of trying to sleep on mine, I have tender spots on my shoulders and hips, my back is all kinds of fucked up, my neck is all kinds of fucked up (I woke up at one point with searing pain radiating along my neck and left shoulder, and unable to move my left arm,) and spent the entire weekend in fucking tears because I was so exhausted that I couldn't even function.

And I wasn't even the only one.

But when Darlene was made aware of the fact that most of us cannot sleep on these mats, her response was "Well, it's either these mattresses, or bed bugs."

When we haven't had a problem with bed bugs in six months and she fucking knows it.

I'm seriously about ready to say "Fuck it" and just go sleep under a bridge. Or in a tent somewhere. I don't really care at this point as long as it's not this place.