I do most of my coursework for my Masters from home. As a result, I have sexy temptations like unread books, the internet, movies, blogging, and a cozy bed that get me to faff around (three cheers for the person who googles the Brit slang (or just figures out what it means by context) and leaves a comment with the meaning :) That's usually why I make my bed every day. If I have a made bed, I'm not as likely to accidentally fall into it on the way to my computer.
Today I defied my bed rule and discovered that an un-made bed is really quite beautiful. Its rumpled covers satisfy my sleep needs like porn does for a sex addict--maybe because it's possibility without responsibility? Whatever it is, while I've worked today I've occasionally glanced at my bed and fantasized about cozying up with a book and a cuppa tea, and that brief moment is enough to get me back on track with my work.
Maybe this means I'll have a lot more sympathy when my children defy my command to make their beds? (Jonathan: *laughs hysterically at the prospect of the word "sympathy" being in active use in my vocabulary when we have untidy children*)