It’s always been the last thing we worried about decorating. In our Mole Hole studio apartment, it was a sort of dark pillow fort that was probably never truly clean. In our Granby apartment, there was cardboard in the bedroom windows for a long time even after we’d stopped needing to block light for our mixed-up newborn. I’m not sure we ever really unpacked and set up our Belmont apartment in the ten or so months we lived there.
I think there’s a tendency for me not to spend a lot of money or energy on my bedroom, as a grown-ass married lady, because no one sees it but me and my husband, and I don’t exhibit a lot of energy, eight years in, trying to impress him with my sophistication. And 1.) maybe I should, or else, 2.) maybe I shouldn’t be trying to impress anyone with my house, right? What about friendly and meaningful and interesting and, you know, COZY? So maybe no one will see my bedroom, which is mostly a good thing, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try to make it a lovely place to be, even if it just for me.
I’m trying to be better this time around, even though we spend very little waking time in the bedroom, attached as it is to Scout’s “closery.” Still, everytime I come in to change the sheets or grab my outfit for the day, I feel better to find a room not strewn with dirty clothes, dark and undecorated. I doubt I’ll be regularly making the bed anytime soon, but it’s a start.