“The bed has become a place of luxury to me! I would not exchange it for all the thrones in the world” Napoleon Bonaparte
Some days I wish I could rule my kingdom from my bed.
My queen-sized throne with crisp cotton sheets and a goose down duvet.
I’d give commands from the depths of an abundance of pillows, commands that wirelessly fly across the city or even across the country.
Power and information within the reach of my fingertips…right beside my coffee cup.
And my regal garb would consist of flannel or oversized t-shirts, excessively softened by millions of washes.
If the day got too arduous I’d simply lean back and close my eyes and indulge in a quick nap.
I would be a good ruler
and incredibly well rested.
But, alas, in order for my kingdom to function this queen has to get up and out and interact with fervor with her colony. Shedding my flannel and donning a respectable uniform.
Synapses snapping as soon as the alarm goes off even if they haven’t recharged completely.
The demands of schedule and appointments and the confines of a timetable established by a bygone era making me grumpy
and resentful at having to conform.
Making me long for the day I can be mistress of my own universe…
but will have to wait until summer vacation.