Timed how long it takes to make the bed in the morning in my underwear. Not that wearing jeans would be longer or shorter. Just want to know, when you blow it off every morning, how long does it take? Your girl wants you to make the bed. Found my phone on a windowsill not plugged in. “There you are.” Two cats hunting the first chipmunk. Set the timer, three two one go! My rocket to the moon, my Elon Musk, my successful startup, my breakthrough accomplishment! Sheet tightly tucked in on her side loosely on mine. Comforter, ensuring tag at the foot of the bed. Manufacturers, lose the tags please. Thanks. Quilt floral patterns, make sure stems and leaves go vertically, not widthwise. Pillow Tidy. Boom! Ran around the bed to the windowsill. 2:12.
2:12. That’s what I’m saving in the morning when blowing off making the bed. What a loser. Dear Loser, that’s you. Dag! Okay, okay, okay, every morning. Renewed commitment, Zen focus. And in any case don’t listen to the whiney voice. We all know that voice. Imagine a world where we totally killed the whiney voice, from domestic chores to geopolitics! We’d be okay, we’d make it through this mess, we’d avoid self-inflicted apocalypse. Then it hit me. Make the bed every morning for world peace.
