Morning Person

I got new sheets for Christmas, two sets of them actually (thanks Mom, Dad, Clint and family). Four hundred thread count slices of heaven. If I spoke obsessively of my bed before the holidays, I’ve now gone over the edge. What comes after obsessive? That is where I am now.

I washed my sheets immediately after getting back to town after Christmas. I made my bed with warm, soft, delicious linens and vowed to sleep for weeks. I warned people not to call me after 9 p.m. because with sheets like these, who would choose a late bed time? Having four hundred thread count sheets makes me feel like I’ve been cheating myself out of luxurious Z’s for my life up until this point.

I find an unmade bed very appealing. When I spy my bed from the kitchen in my apartment, with the pillows mushed into the shapes that fit my head and the blankets crumpled seductively to the side, I have a hard time remaining vertical. My bed beckons me with its sloppy comfort. Add to that allure of four hundred thread count sheets, and I am a goner. I have taken to making my bed, just to make it slightly less desirable so that I’m able to get things done in the evening without being enticed back to slumber.

I’m a big fan of my bed, my pillows especially. When I was a little kid (not much more than a baby really) I used to suck my thumb. I would curl my fingers around my nose, with my thumb slipping wetly over my tongue. In the space between my curled fingers, I would clutch a tuft of my pillowcase. Through the night, I would breathe through my pillow case, inhale the scent of it really. I loved the smell, a mixture of little girl playtime and my shampoo. I still love my pillows, and I still love the smell. When I change my sheets, I always shower at night and go to bed with wet hair to season my pillowcase with that Paige and shampoo smell that I love so much. There is comfort in burying my face in my pillow and inhaling that light, sweet smell of sleep. (On a side note, there are several amusing pillow-related anecdotes that you could rustle up if you know which of my friends to talk to, but that is another story. I’m telling you that just to illustrate that I really do love my pillows. How many people do you know with amusing pillow anecdotes?)

Not wanting to get up in the morning comes with the territory when you enjoy your bed as much as I do. Mornings are tough for me. I love the sweet sin of reaching my arm into the chilly abyss between me and the alarm clock, punching the snooze button and retreating into the delicious depths of my warm bed for 9 more minutes. I have perfected the art of morning bargaining. I’m 25, so I’ve had some time to perfect my technique. I know now that I can trade shaving my legs in the morning for 4 more minutes for sleep. Not drying my hair buys 11 minutes. Wearing a dress (one piece of clothing rather than having to choose an outfit in pieces) is worth at least 8 minutes more sleep. The big score is when I showered the night before (like when I change my sheets), I can get away with a whopping extra 30 minutes of sleep. If I do all those things on the same day, I could nearly get up fifteen minutes after I’m due at work and still get there on time. Wait, that probably doesn’t work.

If you need some tips on pre-awake bargaining or you want some suggestions on the best way to make your bed as irresistible as mine, just give me a call. Make sure it is before 9 though, otherwise I’ll probably be in bed.