I don’t currently live with anyone. Over the years I’ve lived alone and shared a home with roommates, friends, partners, and family. There are many positives about having a space to yourself. I think we can all understand the pleasures of finding out that your bustling or shared household is yours alone for a single day. Turning that momentary bliss into an extended reality is pretty great. Of course, there are negatives as well. Cohabitating brings love, interest, joy, and drama to even the quietest home and individualistic person. One of the most glaring issues of living alone as a busted-body adult is making the bed. 

That’s right! It’s not a glamorous or divisive topic. It is incredibly boring and tedious, but the truth is… making my bed is one of the most difficult things that I have to do. 

My bed is fairly small. I picked it for a number of reasons. I move homes A LOT. Frequent transitions mean that I need to be able to fit all my stuff into one vehicle or container easily. Depending on where I’m going, sometimes I need to store my things. So, the more condensed the better. For a while I relied on a futon, but that became ridiculous and a headache to transport. When I decided to buy an actual bed, I knew that I would be moving into a warehouse-type space. There was a small nook that perfectly fit a long single size bed. I’m tall and single so, bingo. It worked perfectly while I was there.

Luckily, in my current bedroom, my small bed is also an ideal fit. Anything larger and I would constantly be maneuvering around it. I also chose a simple mattress stand and no headboard. Again, easy to move from place to place. Plus, I happen to be a sleepwalker/active sleeper so the closer I am to the floor the better. I know this is all very sexy and alluring information.

The daily bed fixing isn’t very problematic because if I’m worn out I can simply toss the sheets and blankets over each other with little effort. The hard part, the really frustratingly painful part, happens when I change or wash my bedding. I’m a wash the sheets weekly kind of girl. It’s an important part of my hygiene routine. Am I physically capable of doing this task every 7 days? No. I don’t like it, but sometimes the week has to stretch into two for me to be able to handle the specific actions. 

Removing blankets and sheets requires hand dexterity and strength. There is a lot of standing, reaching, bending, and walking around. I’m very fortunate to have a washer and dryer unit in my space so throwing everything in the laundry is the chill part. It is also the time when I sit down and try to psyche myself up for the next event in the marathon that is making the bed. Putting bedding back on a mattress includes all of the above steps plus pulling, tugging, tucking, shoving, and folding. I mean… billowing sheets?! Fluffy pillows?! Weighted blankets?! Nothing is an easy fit or takes a simple flick of the wrist. 

Making myself a comfortable safe space to spend nights and the roughest days is important. I’ve slept on floors, couches, and roll away mats. My body can’t do that anymore. I can’t just toss a sheet on my mattress and call it a day. I’ve tried. Instead, I’ll wrestle with the pillowcases and use yoga moves to lay down the nightmare that is a fitted sheet. I’ll pay too much for sheets that are soft and a perfectly sized blanket. Sometimes we need to complain about the things able-bodied people barely think about. Highlighting our weird and surprising plights is part of the reason I write. 

I hope you’re as healthy as possible reading this silly rant about bedding. Stay safe.

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