Making your bed is for suckers

You could spend that time GAMING

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Right now, is your bed made? If your answer is “no, of course not” congratulations. I am electing you as a mentor to your peers who answered “Yes” and “No, not right now, but usually.”

Look, I get it. We all have to sleep somewhere. Beds are as good an option as any (outside of Japanese futons that get put away during the day — extra room!). And I’m sure your mother or legal guardian required you to make your bed each day in some attempt towards discipline, the same way the military screams at enlistees until their bunks are perfectly creased at 45 and 90 degree angles for no other reason than to make sure they’re good at following orders, no matter how stupid. But you’re an adult now, right? And not an active member of the United States military? So why are you still making your bed?

Probably habit or some unexamined notion of civility. Truth is, there’s no reason to make your bed. Here’s what you should do. Wake up (bleary-eyed and later than is deemed okay by polite society). Immediately reach for your phone, laugh at messages from friends, delete every single email you got overnight, then open broader social media until you shake with rage. Throw off the covers and go to take a piss. Leave your comforter in a pile, however it landed, mimicking the arbitrary, natural beauty of a vast expanse of wind-shaped sand dunes. Your dog will find it more comfortable anyways.

this is a sneaking mission, snake

— salafist snake (@poverotti)

Here’s what you shouldn’t do: make your bed. You should not straighten out your pillows, one on each side in perfect symmetry. You should not pull your flat sheet taut, creasing it over itself — frankly, you should not even have a flat sheet. No need to beat your comforter into submission or make sure it drapes over each side exactly 8.5 inches. Why would you? You’re going to sleep in there tonight anyways.

Undoubtedly charlatans will try to trick you into making your bed, if not by some misguided appeal to decorum (Eat my ass! you respond) then by LOGIC. Oh, why wash your clothes or shower if you’re just going to get dirty again, huh? Well, dipshit, because good hygiene prevents the spread of disease and smelling bad in public sucks, which is where your body and clothes go. You know what doesn’t go in public: your slightly mussed up bed. Who gives a shit?

Seriously, who are you trying to impress? People who subscribe to Better Homes and Gardens? Why? Do you read Better Homes and Gardens? No. You glance at it in the grocery checkout line as you desperately scan the environment, looking for things to look at before the anesthesia of glossy magazines, iconic candy wrappers, and local realtor ads on the dividers funnel you back to staring at a conveyor belt of mid-shelf booze, cereal, and limes. You do this so you don’t have to make eye contact with the cashier before it’s your turn to fake a smile and warm greeting to a person you’ve been ten feet away from for several minutes but are pretending to have noticed for the first time. Oh! Didn’t notice you there! How nice to see you! I guess while you’re here, if you don’t mind ringing me up? You never even pick up Better Homes and Gardens and pretend to thumb through it. It could be ꦆa porno mag with a sly cover for allꦬ you know. 

Stop making your bed.