Wake The Dog
I woke up this morning, body twisted in an unnatural, uncomfortable, contortionist position.
Halfway down the bed, on my side, was Puppy.
During the night, she decided the most comfortable place for her would be where my body belongs.
And, clearly, as shown by the crick in my neck, the tweak in my back, the wrench in my knee, I accommodated.
I didn’t do it consciously. I’m sure my brain knew that if I tried to move her, she’d wake up and I’d pay for it; she’d give me the “oh good, you’re up!” in-my-face look. I’d have to get out of bed to walk her. It felt easier to sleep weird than to get up and walk her.
And now my body is out of whack.
Accommodating others - we do this all the time at work, don’t we?
This guy gets angry if the spreadsheets aren’t color coded and calls it out in front of other people.
That one hates it if you name an idea at the wrong moment and reminds you with that look.
So we bend over backwards. Or sideways.
Because we want to be good and liked and make it easy for others.
We are contorting ourselves so we don’t accidentally ‘wake the dog’.
It doesn’t always serve us to only serve others.
Sometimes, it prevents us from being productive or creative...or from sleeping.
Sometimes it’s worth waking the dog.