Making Your Bed Every Day Does Nothing

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I'm sure this will go well for me.

Ever since I was a youngin, I was told I had to make my bed before I could eat breakfast. So, as a hungry little boy, I’d whip that bed together as fast as possible, and my mom would reward me with a bowl of my favorite cereal and WWE Monday Night Raw on TV. This became a routine I followed for most of my life.

Then I got older, aka I went to college, got hammered every night except Sunday, and suddenly found myself more concerned with surviving a hangover and making it to class than worrying about how my bed looked when I got back. They say it takes 60 days or some shit to build a habit, and I don’t know how long it takes to break one, but once I discovered drinking five or six nights a week, the “make your bed” habit disappeared faster than my hairline.

And look, Cons, I love you—but I know you're having a stroke reading this.

I just don’t understand the obsession. If you have a partner or share a room, or doing what most families do and fake tighty up the house because guest are coming, sure, I get wanting things to look presentable. But for someone like me, who lives alone, no kids or wife, why the hell should I care what my bed looks like when I get home? It's not going to feel any different when I crawl into it at 2 a.m. with one shoe still on.

Now, I’ll admit, a freshly made bed after you wash your sheets? One of the best feelings in life. That’s a luxury. But a random Wednesday made-bed vs. unmade-bed? Same experience. Once it’s time for bed, I turn the lights off hop in the bed and it’s done. Whether it’s made or not makes no difference to me. 

And don’t hit me with those studies about how people who make their beds are more likely to be successful or “start their day with purpose” or whatever spin zone bullshit some dude on TikTok cooked up. I’ll be the first to call it what it is, rubbish.

Making your bed changes absolutely nothing. And that’s the hill I’ll die on.