Description:

No, get your head out of the gutter - this isn't this kind of story...
You could argue there's gilfs in this story - but they don't share the bed with minors... Legal age is paramount here... Consenting paramours and the whole shebang... 

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Gramma's Bed

I can't say I remember much of them - the older man passed away when I was little - the only thing I do recall with certainty was heart attacks and their fatality.
And her complaining about the weather and pretty much everything else - mostly side effects. Not heart attack related side effects - more like generic ones... 
Like those that come with drugs.

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She wasn't a junkie - I mean, to best of my knowledge, all the pills and powders were legal - and there's nothing to indicate she was self-medicating. 
I am sure that was a thing one hundred years ago - a Study in Scarlet was published before the old lady was born I am more than willing to give here the benefit of the doubt... 

She'd been very old when I was still little - and before I grew up she was gone. RIP.

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My friend's gran is still around - she's younger than his mum. I don't know how that works either - but for the sake of argument - we'll run with it.
The numbers add up - can't lie about those - they are established facts. Irrelevant ones to boot.

Maybe it's a generational thing - heck, maybe it's even a new-age one - I wouldn't know - but there's one thing she taught him - I never quite understood:
"make your bed in the morning - even if everything goes wrong that day, and you feel like you failed at everything - when you go to bed you'll know you've done one thing right the day - no one can take that away from you".

Possible it's her own take on "you've made your bed, now lie in it" - now, that's a pun and half - but I reckon that's a bit of a stretch - so I am not going to argue that.

The pun being - even though you fucked up on every corner & and let yourself and everyone else down that day - maybe you even did some nasty stuff and hurt folks;
you can lie to yourself about having had at least one success, one good deed that day. I am sure there's a lot more comfort in that than in having a tight duvet and a flat pillow.

It just sounds so self-helpy... and that's not necessarily a bad thing - whatever gets you through your day - whatever makes you sleep - I am all for it.
It's just, I dunno... it feels like it's lacking perspective... let us thus explore:

There's comfort in knowing at the end of the day, the day was not a complete waste of a day. It feels good knowing you've achieved something. Anything. 
It's also a good distraction... an excuse... it might be... slopes and whatnot... not implying anything.... aren't I?

So let's turn this thing around - flip it upside-down... mirror it... get a reflection... get a new perspective...

What if you don't make your bed? Say you overslept and were in a rush... Say you got out of the bed with the wrong foot... Nay, say you didn't have to run - you just had the runs... Anything really...
You left the bed a mess - and your whole day was not an improvement;

Having your juice in the morning you stained your clothes, and had to change again... You cut yourself shaving - you were in a rush... work & commitments were going to run away if you didn't make up for time lost...
At the coffee-shop, the bakery, you bumped into someone - with just enough time for a half-arsed, half-baked excuse of an apology - I mean, for god sakes, can't they watch where they're going?
Can't they see you're in a rush? I mean, c'mon - you lead a busy life... they should get a life... for all you care... 
Your lunch is over- or undercooked... the asshole took your cab or the last spare seat in public transport... you get the idea... it's just one of those days... we all have them... 

But then, when you finally get home - after having spent your evening hours for the benefit of others (you're a good person... you care for the community... and your public image... it's important...);
and go to the bedroom - and at your last re-unite with your down feathers (personally I prefer camel hair - not judging...).

And what's staring back at you? A bloody mess of entangled sheets and PJs - it's a disgrace... What are you going to tell yourself? What lies come to your lying down?
Are you going to tell yourself that despite everything you didn't even manage to not cock up that tiny little thing? That you failed that teeny tiny task?
Or are you going to blame someone else? I wouldn't know... I made it a habit of not making my bed - it's what I'd call 'somewhat unrelatable'... Unless I'm in like a fancy hotel... 
Then I usually have someone else do it for me - unless I'm in a rush and forget to put up the do-not-disturb sign... I take the blame for that one... 
It's something to do with the industrial smell of hotel towels... I could never make that work... nor could they... the hotels that specifically tell you that if the towels are hung they're not getting replaced.
It is good, green advertisement - good for the planet - good for business - it just doesn't quite work if the staff or management couldn't really care about it... 
Doing the thing is easier than understanding it... It's easier to make the bed in the morning than it is to not walk without a crutch. 
A nice bed is nicer to look at than a maudlin set of rotten sticks... Canes are nice, though... 

So, what did we learn? Nothing really...

Whether or not you make your bed in the morning is up to you. You may be the tidy type - or the lazy looser - whatever works for you and your schedule. 

If it's a part of your daily routine, fine. 

If it's something you do on a Sunday before you go to church, great. 

Kudos to you! 

Have a biscuit with it - milk & cookies for everyone!

But if you do it solely to feel better when you retire after an exhausting day - godspeed & tra la la.

Ha ha ha.

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