With the exception of trundling to the kitchen to forage for food, the briefest of potty breaks, and a one-hour dash to yoga, I have not left the bed since 7:30 this morning. How cool is that?
I've discovered I don't need to leave the bed to work.I've got my laptop propped on my legs, projects spread across the space beside me, cell phone by the beside table, and the cats take turns jumping up onto the bed to sleep at my feet. I don't know why I didn't think of this years ago...
Lest you think I'm some sort of loser, I'll point out that the bed is made, and I am showered, dressed, with teeth brushed and hair combed. (Kinda. I'm still growing it out. Big hair. Big, big hair.) I've simply chosen to recline on a Sterns & Foster double-padded mattress versus sitting stiffly upright in a squeaky office chair. I've got three pillows stacked behind my back, a comforter spread across my feet, and a stunning view of the vines that threaten to overtake the grape arbor outside our bedroom window.
Oh sure, I might feel the beginning of bed sores developing across my a--, but this is a small price to pay for the luxury of being able to close my eyes, roll my head back, and snore for 15 minutes on demand. Again--so cool.
Every two to three months, our cat Lucy picks a new place in the house to call "hers." Be it a corner of the good sofa, the rug in the kitchen, or spread-eagle at the bottom of the stairs, once she picks a spot, she can't be moved from it. I suspect something similar happening here. I might need an intervention at some point to get me to leave the bedroom.
In the meantime, if you need me, call my cell.
The main phone is in the living room and I can't reach it from bed.