I was glued to my bed last Sunday, typing a little and then going back under the covers. I had trouble leaving the bedroom. I can’t say I felt depressed but tired. Today I am full of life, throwing out junk, preparing to call my mother to wish her a happy mother’s day. And I am preparing to send her a card.
I struggle with my environment because I sometimes hold onto shoe boxes, thinking I will reuse them.l I still have the boxes my christmas presents arrived in and the wrapping paper. I looked at a headboard yesterday that looked like something used in gothic movies where virgins were sacrificed to appease an angry, jealous god. Oddly enough, I can sleep just fine in my badly misshapen bed. But it would nice to have a bed that looked like I cared for myself. Which I do.
I remember the first thing that people in many of the supported apartment programs where I have worked do is buy themselves a bed. The program beds are singles, while the residents are often over 200 pounds. The luckiest ones are bringing a bed with them from a previous residence.
Apart from the bed is the matter of clutter. Like the aforementioned wrapping paper. So I am working productively on cleaning up and brightening my surroundings. Obviously my body knew what it wanted last week which was lots of sleep but today is a new week. And it’s time to clean.