For as long as I can remember, I have disliked making my bed. I could probably count the number of times on my fingers and toes that I’ve made my bed since I left home (let’s just say many) years ago. My mom, on the other hand has always kept a tidy bedroom. Now I understand why. When I make my bed, it’s kind of like saying night is done, my dreams have cleaned out my cluttered mind, and today is a fresh day. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to stick to this new routine 100%, but I will try. I’ll think of it as a gift to myself; a small work of art that I indulge in creating every morning that I can look forward to enjoying when my busy day is done.
in my messy head 