I Lie in Bed [Single White Nerd]

I lie in bed. I’ve been lying in bed.  I keep lying in bed.

I’m not particularly enjoying lying in bed.  I’d like to get out of bed.  I know that if I get out of bed and do 50 jumping jacks, I’ll feel better.  It really wouldn’t take much.  Just swing my legs over the side of the bed.  That’s it.  Easy.

I lie in bed.  I’m nestled against clean laundry.  It smells nice.

I really should get out of bed.  There’s so much to do.  There’s that thing I want to finish and that other thing that I have to get done.  I can clean the kitchen, go for a walk, call a friend.  I think about all of the Things I Have to Do.  My chest starts to tighten.

Experience tells me that 50 jumping jacks plus 30 push ups will loosen my chest.  That writing a list of the Things will keep the anxiety at bay.  That a cup of tea will center me.  All I have to do–and really, it will take less than 30 seconds–is get out of bed.

I lie in bed.  My phone buzzes.  A text message.  I ignore it.  I’m very busy.  So much to do.  No time for texting.

Outside, traffic whizzes by.  Cars driven by people who have successfully gotten out of bed.  If they can do it, why can’t I?  My legs work.  I flex my feet just to make sure.  I try to trick myself into getting out of bed.

Self, I say, if you don’t get out of bed by the count of three, the world will explode.

One.
Two.
Two and half.

I lie in bed.

I just want to get up.  God, I hate that I’m not able to get up.  Why can’t I get up?  This is stupid.  I am stupid.  I’m not stupid.  The bed is stupid.  Stupid bed that I’m lying in.  My bed.  That I made.  Wait.  No.  The bed is not a metaphor.  The bed is a bed.  And I am lying it.

I lie in the fucking bed.

I hate the bed.  The bed is a prison.  I need to escape from prison.  It should be easy.  No tunnels to dig, no walls to jump.  Just a small physical adjustment.  I can even roll over and topple out of the bed.  That’s just sad.  Do I need to topple on the floor to get out of bed?  Is that the kind of person I want to be?

Don’t I want to be the kind of person who gets out of bed?  Yes, I do.  That is a person I would want to know, a bed getter outer ofer.  Yes. I will be that person!

I swing a leg over the side of the bed.  I stand.  I am no longer lying in bed.

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featured image credit: Kalense Kid