five nights

There is much to be said in my life for spending five nights in a row in one bed. I am extremely accustomed to having my stuff ready to go at all times. In the morning whilst away it is routine of me to use one beg and take to my rollerboard then back to finish getting ready so the other may be put back as well. If I am really on the ball while at home, I take the time to refill all my "UK-tavived" bottles and pack them neatly back into the clear bag which conforms to security screenings.

Each morning I get up, I make my bed sometimes immediately or first thing after returning to it's side from running to the bathroom. I make beds if I am at home, most definatly, staying at a guys house (if memory serves correctly), and in a hotel room. I was questioned about my strange habit by Chris one morning as I was making his bed.
"You don't have to do that" he says.
Sorry just habit.
"Do you make your bed all the time?"
Yes, even in the hotel rooms, I don't want the maid to think I am a slob.
"Even on check out day?" he presses.
Everyday is checkout day, I reply.

And so it goes. Even when I am slow, I never get five nights in a row in a bed. So for this to sequence to have recently occur to me, it through me back into routine. I got up every morning at 0930, made my bed, walked around in a daze for a bit my feet making the old familiar sound as they made contact with the cork floors. I became a quick, once again regular at the local Starbucks and found myself taking the long way back to my layover spot. Because I am a creator of habit, I could eat the same breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday for weeks with no complaints, I fell fast for this routine. I like waking up in pink shits versus purple or the oh-so-common white.

Now I am back in NY about to go to be in "my bed" and wait for the call tomorrow to see which bed I will be making come Monday morning.