Three-Fold Angelic Utopian Dreams

So, I'm probably one of the safest, most don't-rock-the-boat conservatives you know, right? I don't know why, but tonight, it hit me that perhaps I'm a bit self-destructive as well. Not really really... but behind the green curtain, a little bit.

I don't make up the bed a lot. I do it basically once every two weeks before the cleaning ladies are scheduled to come on Monday mornings. (I hate paying them to do things that I don't mind doing. Their time is reserved for cleaning the floors and the bathrooms. And yes, I have cleaning ladies. Shut up.) Anyway, when I do actually make up the bed, I like the bedroom a lot more. I seriously enjoy things that are clean and organized... I just don't enjoy being the one doing the cleaning/organizing. So, this morning (Tuesday, one day post-cleaning ladies), I decided to make up the bed again. Who knows... maybe I'll make a habit of it. Anyway, this morning I notice (once again... because really, I notice it all the time) the angel that sits on my nightstand. I look at this angel all the time... first of all, because I love her. She reminds me of all things beautiful and happy and meaningful. Secondly, I look at her often because she sits on the edge of my nightstand right next to where I stack the pillows. There's a corner of the bedroom, between my nightstand and a bookshelf, that is ultra-convenient for pillow-storage. If I don't get around to making up the bed in the morning, the pillows can hang out there, nicely packed away, without being obtrusive.

So, every time I make up (or unmake) the bed, I stack (or unstack) the pillows in this corner. And every time I think, "I need to be extra careful not to drag these pillows across my beautiful sweet fragile little angel. I really should think about moving her to a less precarious post." But I don't. I leave her right in harm's way. And I think about how very very upset I would be if I accidentally knocked her over and, God forbid, broke her.

I don't want to be broken. I don't want her to be broken, I mean. Why don't I just move her or stop putting the pillows there? Am I just tempting fate every time I go through this? Is it a foregone conclusion that she will, eventually, be broken (especially considering my track record with breaking things that are important to me) or will I be able to protect her simply by being extra extra careful and loving her as much as I can (without, of course, actually protecting her by proactively moving her to a safer locale)?

Oh, the drama.