RNG – Loftily repeating a phrase that she once heard at a another cocktail party, Mrs Karen Historic-Properties recently proclaimed that the first step to success in life is making your bed every morning. All those gathered at the charity wine event strongly agreed.
Having gotten a positive response from her witless generalization, Mrs Historic-Properties started the next day by booting her husband out of bed and making it immediately. She padded to the kitchen, made coffee, and ruminated for a while. Yes, she wanted more success, so she went back to the bed and made it again.
After an hour watching ‘The View’, inspired that she too could have deafening opinions backed by no knowledge whatsoever, she raced to the bedroom, stripped the bed and washed everything thoroughly, using bleach and stain removers; unnecessary yes, but conspicuously recherche.
90 minutes later, after finally managing to log onto her wifi and ‘like’ Facebook memes touting the superiority of things as they used to be, she made the bed again, this time using a ruler to make it perfect.
“…She raced to the bedroom, stripped the bed and washed everything thoroughly, using bleach and stain removers; unnecessary yes, but conspicuously recherche.”
She then read an article on baking a perfect pie with criss-cross top while drinking tea on the sofa of her gracious living room filled with soothing natural light and tasteful decor; she felt the urge to go back into her bedroom, where she found to her consternation a wrinkle in a pillow. She stripped the bed, made it again, and then stared at it for 15 minutes to ensure no further imperfections could be found.
At this point her husband came home, tired from his day of detailing the Jag. She advised him that she had been very busy today herself, forbade him to sit upon, look at, or even think about the bed, and then just stood there staring at it for a very, very long time.
Across town, a young woman returned home from two months in Somalia where she had acted as a volunteer aid worker attempting to ease the famine. While there, she sometimes slept on the ground and was tonight grateful to crash on her buddy’s smelly, worn-out couch.
It is a shame she did not have a bed to make the next day, for she would surely end up a failure.
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