My Feet Are Cold

What is it about a warm bed that makes everything else in the world an inferior option? Put aside your wild animals, theme parks, jobs, friends and sports (society seems to collectively say), I am still in bed.

Society gears us from infancy to be productive individuals, and yet every Pavlovian impulse we have about producing may be set aside if the floor is too cold. Why? It isn't a sense of physical pain or mental humility. No punishment will come to us for getting out of bed and joining the world, and yet there we all stay, suited up for bed, onesies (don't judge) and all.

What could the cause of this accepted form of slothery be?

There must have been some biological reprograming at the beginning of the last ice age, as if an early warning system loosed our minds from the normal impulse to start the day. ("Nope, it is fifty below outside, and you could die. Stay in bed.") Modern humanity has been burdened with a vestigial impulse with a lesser standard. ("Nope. The floor is 60 degrees and the bed is 70. Plus I don't think the coffee is ready. Do. Not. Move.(!))

All of this is not to say this impulse is unwelcome. A professional procrastinator like myself can utilize this tool daily. For example: I am due at the office in an hour. Clients will need advice and I would, on the average Thursday, give counsel. But, today, they can wait because, well, my toes are cold and the thickest, fuzziest socks won't cut it to my standards.

In order to make such "relaxation" societally acceptable, I propose an initiative. Let's call it the "Beware Exiting the Duvet" bill (or as lobbyists will refer to it, "B.E.D."). Sick days have provided an easy out to those unwilling to overcome their physical ailments for the greater good. We now ask for the freedom to give excuses and receive reprive from our duties when the floor scares our feet, forcing us into the fetal position under our comforters.

I think we can make the world a better place. Let's start by taking (or I suppose not taking) this one step.