With sobriety, I began again to notice the world around me. To see, observe, think about it. And to let my thinking about other people change, evolve.
I notice that nobody but me cares about whether our bed is made in the morning. Oh, I think, nobody cares. I don't have to make the bed. And then I notice that I like it when the bed is made. I like walking into our bedroom and seeing it look so tidy, so welcoming. Gosh, I think, this looks as good as a hotel or a magazine ad.
And I decide to make the bed most mornings, for ME. This task, this one minute or so of making the bed, shifts. It is no longer something I do because I should or because it is what one does. Or because my man wants this, expects this, or so I think. He really doesn't care much. Making my bed becomes something I do for me, and enjoy for me- and is no longer a burden in my mind, ripe for my resentment at All I Have To Do.