The Bed

(From 2013, idea from an animation short story, unmade, translated)
Today I woke up and I wasn't me, I was my bed. I don't know who is me in my stead now but my body keeps getting up by it's self and going about with his life. He gets dressed, watches television, eats and sleeps on me. I really have no clue who he thinks he is but he makes no issue at all of me. After all I'm just a bed to him. Come to think of it, I never payed much attention to my bed, except when changing the sheets. How did this happen? Could I have swapped consciousness with my bed? Since when do beds have a consciousness? Or, my spirit was duplicated and I was expelled from my body to make way for the new version of me. Or maybe I'm the replica. But that doesn't explain why I'm now a bed.
Maybe there are all pointless questions since I'll never know. I don't even have any way to communicate. And there is nothing in the world that shows any inkling that anything has changed at all.