How not making your bed might kill you and why I'm still looking for my pot of gold.

So I realized this morning that, while I’m generally upbeat and optimistic, I have a dark side that for-real haunts me every day of my life. Also, I think it definitely puts me into a category of people normally reserved for those individuals who carry their cats inside of their coats and mumble to themselves on the train while searching through their imaginary pot o’ gold for the leprechaun who gives her magical powers.

And yes, that person rides my train, and no, it’s not me. Yet.

You see, I wake up, brush my teeth, hop in the shower, do normal morning rituals, get dressed…..and then I stare at my unmade bed. Why? Because I have an internal battle every single morning over making that damned thing. I mean, obviously a made bed just looks sharper – duh – but I’d be lying if I said that was the reason.

The real reason is death.

What? Yeah.

I was about two and a half steps away from looking for my pot of gold in this picture, and that was 20 years ago. I m obviously doomed.

I do realize that living inside of my brain at times is sort of like most people’s own personal hell. Or like a really confusing maze that’s fun for, like, a minute and then you’re all “Ok, for real, this blows. Can you just tell me how to get to the end already?” But because I’m trapped in here, every morning I have the following dialogue with myself about said bed-making:

“If you don’t make the bed, then you’ll for sure die today and then you’ll be all like ‘Ugh, I knew it, I knew that I’d be jinxing myself today by not making that bed. Damn you, death!’ But also, that’s kind of crazy, and whether you live or die doesn’t depend on whether or not you make your bed. But if you do happen to die today and you didn’t make your bed, then you know that the first thing people will think when they walk into your apartment to pack up all of the Tori Spelling books and frangrance-y lotions and body scrubs will be 'Wow…we thought she had her life more pulled together than this. But I guess not because look – she totally didn’t even make her bed! Poor Becky, we should’ve reached out to help her when we had the chance.'”

Also, and totally unrelated, since I was bored last night and had a headache and nothing good was on tv and CB was out of town, I decided to take an anxiety test online and the OCD quiz. And I totally passed both, guys!

Wait, is that not a good thing?

To be honest, though, I don’t understand people who aren’t a little bit crazy. Sorry to be all judge-y, non-crazies, but you people freak me out. If you’re not turning the bathroom light on and off four times before leaving, or running back inside at least twice to make sure you unplugged something every morning, or making your bed so that you don’t die that day, we just can’t be friends. I have standards, people.