Tempur-Pedic Semi-finalists Revealed!

October 20, 2010

All I have to say is – WOW. You guys really blew me away with all of your amazing creativity! We had an extremely difficult time narrowing it down! And now the fun begins:

In the comment section below, the voting begins. Please leave ONE vote for your letter of choice (either by name or number) – judging on merits of creativity, need, and pure amazingness-of-letter. Feel free to force all of your friends to run on over here and vote for you, that is perfectly acceptable, but only ONE vote is allowed per email address. (And don’t think you can try and trick me with different aliases, this is one smart Marzipan you’re reckoning with.) But you CAN vote for yourself, of course, but only one time ; )

Click here to view the winning entries!!

The voting closes Sunday, October 24th, at 12 PM EST. The winner will be announced on Monday.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for participating and voting for your favorite entry.

1. Julie:

Dear Sleep Number-From-Hell-Bed,

Ever since I started dating you and my boyfriend, my back has hurt. Which is unfortunate because, as you know, Dan (my boyfriend) has the back of an 80-year old man. His chronic condition is called, Degenerative Disc Disease (DDD). Basically, it means that his spine doesn’t have a disc and there are two other discs that are slowly disintegrating. It breaks my heart that he has so much pain.

I know you, the sleep number bed, do your best to help him, but it’s just not working. Every night as we sleep, we feel like we’re on an incline. I wake up with pains I’ve never had before.

Think about it. If each side of the bed has a different number, the bed itself is not flat. When Dan tries to cuddle with me, it’s like he’s being pulled away because his side is much lower than mine. Vise-versa, when I try to cuddle with him, I am being pushed into him.

This doesn’t do well for, let’s just say, “certain activities.” These “certain activities,” in my opinion, keep a relationship strong. They also provide a, um, “therapeutic release” for Dan and in turn, helps his back.

The poor guy walks like an old man. 🙁 At 26 years old, he uses a cane and sometimes has to miss important events because his back is out. I’m sure you remember my first big race, the Cherry Blossom. I trained for months and the night before, something happened to Dan’s back. Well, he tried to convince me that he could come, but he was walking like a caterpillar, face grimacing in pain, and being the type of guy he is, he probably would have inched over to the race, regardless. Slow and in so much pain.

It’s not an issue of the muscle, it’s a bone deep issue which he can only control with pain medication and, down the line, surgery. Having a good bed, for both him and his partner, is extremely important. We want to avoid surgery as much as possible.

The only bed out there that I think he and I, would both benefit from is the Tempur-Pedic, which we just cannot afford right now. We have tested it out in the stores, and he feels more support from it than you, Sleep Number, you dirty piece of…

I wish this letter was funny. I wish it was witty. But, it’s really just the truth. I am writing this for both Dan and myself. I don’t want to see him go through this anymore. I want him to wake up in comfort and happiness. I want our relationship to be stronger. I want him to forget – even for a second – that his back is like this.

See you tonight,


2. Lisse:

Dear Matt(ress) ,
I do hope this letter finds you well despite our rocky history. I know that leaving you in a storage unit on the side of the highway could probably be classified as a smidge passive-aggressive, but when you consider what we’ve been through together…well, I think we’d both agree that you sort of had it coming.

Perhaps it is the age difference, you being so much older than I, not knowing that my young back too, needs support and caring. Maybe it is because you were left behind with me, carelessly, the wayward detritus of a failed relationship. And maybe, just maybe, you were a little put out by my attempts to remedy our rift by bringing a third party into our relationship, in the way of a younger, more plush, foam topper. But it seems (cute and firm as it was) even that could not change our ill-fated match.

I am writing to tell you I am through with the hurt and the inconsistent sleep. I need someone I can trust to be there for me night in and night out. To support me in my next steps to blissful, tranquil sleep, in my brand new city. And so, I am leaving you behind. Try and be strong, and for crying out loud get yourself a make-over. Gold-lame flowers on peach background? For shame.

Yours never more,

3. Mandy:

Dear Mattress,

You oughta know, you’ve lost that loving feeling. Each and every one of these nights, you take another little piece of my heart, and I cry 96 tears. Tears on my pillow that are killing me, softly.
Where did our love go? Yesterday, I had the time of my life, the way we were. Our nights in white satin. But even now love hurts, and our tainted love is a battlefield. I don’t think I can take one more night. Anyone who had a heart would say that it must have been love, but it’s over now.
Anyway, how can you mend a broken heart after the love has gone? It’s too late, baby. So hit the road, Jack, ‘cause I’m all out of love. The beat goes on; you and I must go our separate ways. I will survive without you. I’m movin’ on up and with a little help from my friends it’ll be just like starting over.
And as far as I’m concerned, you’re just another picture to burn.

Vaya con Dios,


4. Avi:

Dear Mattress,

I really need to get laid.

I know that’s not your job. I know it’s not even what you’re designed to do. I care about sleeping, I really do.

But enough already.

The last few paramours I’ve brought home (after much wine has been imbibed and much cash has been spent on taxis) have taken one look look at your twin-sized shape and your lumpy middle and gone, “Oh.”

And we all know what “Oh” means. It means “I have to get up early tomorrow, so I probably shouldn’t stay.”

It means, “I’m actually not feeling that well.”

It means “Holy hell, get me a car service outta here PRONTO.”

I now feel like I should put “still sleeps on a twin bed” on my business card and OkCupid page to warn future lovers off. I might as well say “still sleeps with the light on” or “has a strong attachment to childhood teddy.”

You know what’s ironic? The way you’re called a Twin Bed. A pair of twins can’t fit side by side in you without someone being pushed into the crack between you and the wall. Where I come from, we call you a Single. Which is just what I am right now, and what I will be forever if you stick around.

I know it’s going to hurt to hear this. And I know that, yes, there are a few people randy enough (or drunk enough) to forgo a good night’s sleep just to get their rocks off with me. But it never ends well. I either feel bad for taking up too much room and end up sleeping on a corner, or miss out on a morning cuddle because I gave up at 4am and moved to the couch.

Enough is enough.

For my sake, and for yours, it’s time for you to go.

Thanks for everything,

A x

5. Emmie Bee:

Dear non-existant mattress that I don’t actually have:

I am sleeping on a borrowed mattress.
Well, originally it was mine. Purchased for me.
But then that evil mom of mine got pregnant. AGAIN.
And now?
I have two siblings.
& between us?
We have 2 mattresses.

Apparently, I am getting kicked out of my bed at Christmas to move up to a big boy bed. Problem? Mom & Dad can’t afford a mattress for me. Like, even an IKEA one. Soooooo… I may have to take up residence on the floor or *GASP!* share a crib with my brother if I can’t come up with a better (twin sized) mattress!! OK. I’m not THAT dramatic- I may get one from Craigslist & as you know NOTHING says comfy like a toddler on a stranger’s mattress. YUM!

I’d sure love to have a super comfy Tempur-pedic mattress for my new big boy bed. Hope you can help me out, homegirl.

A bedless 20 month old in CA;

Vote for your favorite entry in the comments below, using either name or number of letter.