Opus 2018-141: A Pseudotweet

It occurred to me this morning that I have developed the strange habit of “making” my bed each day.  Something which I resisted with all the fervor of youth has now become second nature.  The first miracle is that I notice it isn’t made.  The second is that I straighten it up without an inner struggle of my spirit of liberty yearning to live free.

I don’t know when the change happened.  I am wondering why?  Is my wife a better nagger than my mother?  Did an alien possess my body?  Is it a sudden need for islands of order in my life?  Is it because I am getting old and losing my mind?  I am going to go with modern culture and claim to be the victim.

I am the victim of the modern casual approach to life.  The last wedding I attended had me standing out as one of the few men who wore a tie.  Most guests were dressed like they were going on a date to a local bar.  At church last Sunday the uniform was some sort of worn looking denim and a shirt that was not tucked in.  That spirit has embraced my inner bed maker.

For those of you who are new to this world the making of a bed used to be an arduous task.  The corners had to be neatly tucked in.  The top sheet was to be evenly folded back over the blanket, even though it would be covered by the pillows and bed spread.  The pillows were neatly arranged across the top of the bed and the bed spread was brought up over them and tucked under the front.  The bed spread had to be evenly draped on all sides.  It was quite a procedure.  No wonder I hated it.

Now I just kind of pull things up until they are generally neat.  The pillow goes wherever it ends up and since the bed spread is really a down comforter it covers a lot of uneven sheet wrinkles.  It takes a few seconds.

Am I getting better or are the expectations worse?  Is it a victory for sanity or a sign of disintegration?  This sounds like one of those stereotypical tweets that share how many squares of toilet paper you used this morning. 

homo unius libri