When I was younger, making my bed never really became part of my daily routine. If anything, it was a daily task that was sporadic. Sometimes, for weeks on end, I would be compelled to make my bed, and then for the next seven months the thought wouldn’t even cross my mind. When I went to college, I started off full of good intentions. Of course I would make my bed every day. Unfortunately, this resolve proved as transient in a dorm room as it had proved in my childhood bedroom.
When I got my first apartment, to encourage myself to make my bed I went all out. While studying abroad in Scotland, my bed had been outfitted with a fitted sheet and a duvet, with no sheets in between, so making my bed had been a breeze. I figured that I would copy this model, and so invested in an all-seasons duvet, a nice duvet cover, and a mess of throw pillows. I probably made my bed, on average, three times a week, but this was hardly a rate to be bragging about.
Now that I’m in between apartments and staying in my childhood bedroom again, I’ve had to try and readjust my mindset. Staying in the twin bed I’ve had since I was in the single-digits of age doesn’t mean that I’m a child again. While I may not be a child, being back at home and in the middle of working on a miserable thesis has made me…well, miserable a lot of the time. One of my late-night random Google searches on “how to make yourself happy” led me to a now forgotten link that suggested making your bed in the morning could be a catalyst to productivity and cheerfulness. What the heck, I thought, and I did the site one better: I washed my sheets. The first morning, I felt a burst of pride after I had made my bed. It encouraged me to tackle the small mountain of laundry that had taken up near-permanent residence on my bedroom floor. Then, before I knew it, I had put away my suitcase and started picking up other things. I brought out my old bedside table so that I would stop using my chair as a storage space. I started leaving my bedroom to work downstairs on a daily basis.
Things were looking up.
Sure, making my bed hasn’t been a cure-all for my problems. I’m still avoiding my thesis like the plague. I still struggle sometimes to get out of my pajamas before dinner time. I have not managed to shake my addiction to Tetris or to start going for a walk every day. But it’s a step in the right direction.