So, I Make My Bed
My existential dread is a morning person.
It yells at me thru the alarm and sneers thru the god forsaken gap between the window's edge and the curtain.
(I really need to fix that)
It hits early.
Because, if it can remind of how little I did yesterday, it can convince me of how little I'll do today.
So, I accept defeat.
The day is already lost.
It's been enough times now that I don't fight that futility of the morning.
So, I make my bed.
It's my first act of defiance against the day.
Making the bed reminds me that every today starts with a mess from yesterday,
That those messes are surmountable,
And that cleaning up always feels more daunting than it is.
When the bed is made, I'm in it.
Ready lose few or win a few.
Now, if only I could get out of these pajamas...