Kelly Spenhoff

When I dump all my crap on the bed, I like the bed to be made. I’m getting home with my purse, sweater, water bottle, a bag of treasures I just bought. If I made the bed this morning (spoiler: I did), it’s a horizontal surface I can use. If the bed is unmade with pillows and blankets everywhere. Chihuahuas burrowing in all of it. Then I’m just heaping crap on top of mess. That’s not the type of chaos I like. 

99 out of 100 days, the only people who see my bed are people I am married to or gave birth to. People who couldn’t care less. But starting the day on the right foot is important to me. I set it up so that when I get home and walk into my bedroom it’s going to look like it’s ready for me. It’s welcoming to walk into a room that’s ready for me.

It takes me less than 5 minutes every morning. I pull up the bedspread and toss all the (14!) pillows into place. Of course I don’t think 14 pillows is excessive. Have you met me!?!

It’s so worth it to me. My room feels like a space I can use. It doesn’t feel like I just rolled out of bed or like I could climb back in any time I want. When I’m sitting at my desk writing, I’m not distracted by my messy bed or 14 pillows on the floor beside it. 

I am choosing how my life goes and deciding to make my bed every morning is a small part of that. It’s not about the bed, it’s about choosing the feel of my space.