It was a weekend morning. I had gotten a good night’s sleep and actually took my time getting out of bed. As I lay there, I took a few long breaths, stretched out my limbs, and realized the sun was shining. It was going to be a good day.
After those few moments, I got up and, as I do every morning, I began to make the bed. With one quick swoop, I straightened out the comforter. Just as I did, the corner of the bed spread clipped the half-glass of Gatorade I had sitting on the night stand. Over it went, down the side of the blanket and onto the floor. “Shiitttt!!!” I exclaimed as I viewed the once white sheet now soiled with yellow. Quickly, I grabbed the comforter and rushed to the bathroom to soak the down-filled mess. “So dumb, soo dumb.” I was of course referring to myself. I returned to the bedroom where my boyfriend and I set up some fan-chair tent-like concoction to remedy the situation. “Ok, can’t do anything more,” I thought, but I couldn’t help feel a little stupid and mad at myself for ruining my previously lovely morning.