Wednesday, July 19, 2006

the bed and the dead

So, I have learned several things about myself recently. Touring and performing has been an interesting growth catalyst.

One of the really interesting (and somewhat silly) lessons has been The Power of The Made Bed.




I am not a bed maker.
I have never been a bed maker.

I do change the sheets. Regularly. But that's an entirely different task.

I've just never been one to commit to the daily ritual of making the bed. Quite frankly, I really just don't care. With my busy life, making the bed is the absolute last thing on my To-Do list. I don't spend that much time in my bedroom, aside from sleeping there, and what's the point because I'm only going to mess the bed up again anyhow.

You can see my bedroom on the way to the bathroom, so I have always (okay, almost always) made up the bed when company was coming. And I have always treated TheMIG as if He is company (ancient chinese secret to long happy life, Joe), so it's always been made when I knew he was on his way over.

But if it's just me?? Pffffffft. Nah.

Except the last two weeks. I'm not sure how or why it started, but I made the bed. Nobody was expected over, and I really didn't have extra time on my hands. I was on my way to rehearsals. I just did it. It took me a whopping 2 minutes.

I had a hellacious day at rehearsals. And when I came home, I plopped myself on my lovely made up bed. And practically purred.

I made the bed the next day, and the next and the next. I made it every day for two weeks. I made it even when I was running late. I had decided to let other chores go because of the hectic schedule...but not the bed.

And every day....after a grueling and not-so-perfect day, and coming home to my not-so-perfect life, I was always greeted by my totally perfect bed.


So much return for such a small investment.

It's a silly little thing, but I think at the same time is it enormous. I feel like I've been searching forever trying to find one little consistent loving thing I can do for myself every day that isn't unreasonable to commit to. Historically, I have always come up with things that are easily dropped, are too difficult a commitment, or are easy to maintain but have little impact.

I have a hunch we all have a bed to be made. Okay, maybe it's not a bed. But something. Some little something. A candle to light. An affirmation. A glass of water to drink. Whatever. I'm just glad I finally found mine, and I'm glad it comes with the fringe benefit of making me look like I sort of tend to my house.

(maybe it will ooze over to the dishes?)
----------------------------------------------

Totally forgot about doing this...

Mr.NapkinPlease made me do it.
I cut & pasted it into a blog draft and forgot all about it.
Then Mrs.Inky reminded me.

QuizGalaxy!
'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

5 comments:

Gray said...

What an epitaph!

Inky said...

Yay, we're both "evil sulkers" who make our beds!

I wasn't much of a bed maker either, but living in one room with a husband, and until recently TWO cats, well, making my bed had a big impact on my mental health. Now that we'll have a whole house to hang out in, I think making my bed will still be a daily habit I keep. You're right, it makes it nice to come home to your room.

Mouse said...

If you follow the "flylady" and "Messies Anon." crowd.. making your bed will help keep the whole room cleaner. I do find that I like the energy of the bedroom better when the bed isn't a rumpled mess but I'm not committed to making the bed every day yet. Glad you found some peace in this crazy day to day..

missmoonbeam said...

Okay, so I've never been a bed maker, probably because my mother WAS and I'm rebelling. I read that the pioneers didn't make beds either, they flipped all covers down off the bed to air it out. They apparantly were ahead of their time. I've recently read that dust mites need water to live and our perspiration trapped in the bedding in just what they need. Yuck. So I no longer feel bad about being a slob, it's a healthy thing.

Gray said...

I am not a bed maker, and feel vaguely guilty. My wife would like me to feel even more guilty.

However, it is one of the household jobs assigned to our daughter in return for her allowance. I don't feel too exploitive, since I clean her room and carefully keep it dust free to keep her dust alergy in check.