One of missjunebug’s favorite words has always been comfort. It has a pillowy sound that is as soothing as its meaning. It also has some interesting connections in our language that resonant with many of us: to give comfort, to receive comfort, to enjoy comfort food, to relax and be comfortable, especially in our surroundings and clothing, to feel comfortable with someone you’ve just met or seen again after a long time, and to work well because you are in your comfort zone. She even likes the antithetical use of it: to give cold comfort to someone, meaning of course, no comfort at all.
There are a few brand applications of comfort that no doubt have parlayed their success at least partially from the word comfort figuring prominently in their products. Who wouldn’t want to stay at The Comfort Inn? Who would refuse a cocktail made with, yes, you guessed it, Southern Comfort? Better yet imagine having that drink, “a unique blend of natural fruit, spice and whiskey flavors that together create a distinct taste” while you are relaxing in your comfy room at the Comfort Inn? Sounds pretty comfortable to missjunebug.
But perhaps the most likely location to find comfort is home. Home sweet, comfortable home. missjunebug has experienced an epiphany of profound proportions recently, having been absented from her home for (count ’em) 18 days. And not on vacay either. That kind of absence is pretty easy to handle even if you get a little homesick. But missjunebug was confined to a hospital bed enduring one of the most uncomfortable experiences of her life.
Now believe missjunebug when she says she is super thankful for all the great care she received from doctors and nurses on her “team” as if she is in some kind of endurance sport, which now that she thinks of it, maybe she is. But you must know there was nothing comfortable about it. She’s pretty sure that if there are any Al Qaeda guys out there we need to subject to some attitude adjustment, all we have to do is arrange for NG (nasal gastric) tubes to be inserted down their throats and they’d come around to seeing things our way pretty damn quick.
So you’ve probably figured out her epiphany by now, as banal and cliché as it may be: There is no place like home. No place more comfortable, cheery, freeing, fresh, happy, and shiny. She is so thankful to be home with her steadfast Mr.JB, her super doodle Spoon, and her precious Lefty kitty. She plans to keep tapping her heels together from time to time to make sure she stays there.