Five years ago, when I decided to go back to graduate school and get a masters in counseling, some things changed around our house.  I had two girls still in high school at the time, and I’m sure both of them would tell you that our lives looked a little different.  Cooking became an option, not a given.  Many nights as I struggled to write papers or study for exams, I’d say, “You guys are on your own for dinner.” Sometimes they’d give me a hard time about it.  Other times they just went with it.  Most of the time they were encouraging and accommodating.

Another thing that changed was I stopped making my bed every day.  No really.  My bed was my desk.  I wrote almost every paper and studied for almost every test, sitting up in my bed with my computer in my lap.  I don’t recommend this. I really like the feel of getting into a made bed.  Throw in clean sheets and a shower, and I’m in heaven.  So for five years, we just crawled in and out of the unmade bed, unless company was coming of course.  I am from the south and there are some things we just do.

Fast forward five plus years, I’ve done some updating in our room.  I painted the walls a couple of weeks ago, got new bedding, and rearranged the furniture. It’s really starting to look nice.  So the other night Will comes in the door after work and into our bedroom to change.  “Wow!  The bed’s made.  What’s up?” I had to laugh.  Five years of an unmade bed and you just get used to how it looks.