Day 3/3: Bed-Making Achieved

Today I am a bed maker.  Four days ago I was not a bed maker.  I was a person to whom bed-making had been suggested many times, for many reasons, all of which I had rejected as somehow not applicable to, or appropriate for, me.

I had many excellent reasons for not making the bed.  The first, and most obvious, being that every evening when I get into bed it becomes unmade again.  In this world filled with things to do why would I waste time doing something that simply had to be done again, and again, and again.

I mean sure, if other people are coming over and they might see my bed I’d make it, for them, or for me?  I wouldn’t want to offend other people with a view of an unmade bed.  But just for me, for my dudes who could care less?  Why bother?

Many other excellent reasons why not to make the bed exist.  Call me if you’d like to hear about them.  Here’s what I’m onto today:  I liked making the bed.  I never thought this would happen to me.  But yeah, something happened, and I gave it a whirl. 

Day one I felt stupid. Day 2 I felt annoyed.  Today I felt a sizzle of something related to pleasure, to my inner inner-ness saying, “Thank you for taking care of me. Good job.”  And I can see how this little ritual, this basic morning routine that I’ve heard works for so many people might work for me too. I’m gonna keep going.