I heard on the radio the DJs discussing the results of a study saying an UNmade bed is better pest control. The warm and moist environment of a made bed helps the dust mites. (bed bugs) But an unmade bed promotes dryness and kills off the bugs.
Of course, since I’m alone in my bed there is a distressing lack of wetness. 
Minor nitpick–dust mites are not bed bugs. Bed bugs are related to kissing bugs. They have piercing/sucking mouthparts and feed on blood. Dust mites are mites, which are a totally different group of insects.
Anyway, I make my bed because it reduces my stress and helps me sleep better. Partly for the sense of peace others have described, partly because Dr.J can mangle bedcovers worse than any other human being I have ever met. If I make the bed every day, the covers are still reasonably straight when I come to bed. If I haven’t made the bed that day, by the time I get in there he’s got one blanket shoved mostly off the bed on one side, another mostly shoved off the foot of the bed, the topsheet turned completely sideways, etc. I need my blanket cocoon intact in order to fall asleep, so that means I’ve got to try and untangle the mess in the dark when I’m tired and ready to go to sleep. This is a right pain in the ass, and it makes me irritable. Becoming irritable as you get into bed is not conducive to a good day’s sleep. Not sleeping well makes me irritable when I get up, and that makes dealing with the house hideous, and going to work hideous, then I’m all pissy when I come home and go to bed, and I’m even less likely to sleep well that day…you get the picture.
In the interest of full disclosure, I should also point out that there’s a large pile of dirty socks in my living room. I take them off when I get home and leave them there until laundry day.
Convenience >>> appearances.
This would be me too. My husband made a feeble attempt to make the bed back when I left for work before he did, but now that we leave at the same time, neither of us really cares. I’ll straighten it up in the evening before I turn on the electric blanket, to be sure it heats the whole bed evenly, but beyond that, I can’t be bothered.
Seems like we’ve got a couple of different definitions of “making the bed” going on here. I’ve got a futon, flannel sheets, and a comforter. For me, making the bed = straightening the pillows and pulling the comforter flat across the futon. Takes like ten seconds. (And yes, I do it, because the cat sleeps on the bed during the day and I prefer him on top of the comforter as opposed to nuzzling in between the pillows or wherever he finds when everything’s all discombobulated.)
If I had a regular mattress and a different set of linens such that I had to untuck and retuck the fitted sheet and deal with multiple layers and folding and all that stuff, I probably wouldn’t bother.
I don’t make my bed (because I’m lazy), but I can see its value as a philosophical, ritualistic type thing.
Making the bed may be “pointless,” but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have value. In fact, its pointlessness may be its value; much of life is pointless yet we continue to push on through our routines, striving for order and clarity, thereby giving our life meaning.
I make my bed in self defense, because every time I forget, someone, eats crackers in my bed…has to be the ghost because my kids never fess up to it.
I suppose so. Many people do have bedspreads and fancy pillows and shams, which would take a lot longer, but I just pull up the sheets, tuck them in, and pull the quilt over them. 20 seconds.
I have a gajillion blankets, stuffed animals and pillows on my bed so making the bed takes a half hour to make it actually look neat. That being said, I only make it when I wash the undersheets every three months or so. Orderly beds where you slide under the sheets can be nice and fun at times, but I prefer to sleep in a tangled, mixed up state. If I did make the bed every morning, I’d have make it messy again before I went to sleep and I hate having to do extra work when I am dead tired.
At my parents’, no one cares what I do. I generally throw the sheets and blankets over the bed before I crawl into it, as if I didn’t, I’d freeze to death, as my room is ~10 degrees colder than my parents’ room, where the thermostat is (not looking forward to going up there tonight, as it’s five below zero outside). The only exception to this rule is if my best friend is coming over. She taught me how to make hospital corners along with every other cleaning task I know.
At school or when I lived in an apartment, I really can’t make my bed. I have a top bunk with a sheet and two afghans. I used to watch my anal, psycho roommate in the apartment spend twenty minutes making her bed every morning, then bitch at me about how she didn’t understand that I could roll out of bed ten minutes before I had to leave the house. She could deal with the thought of an unmade bed all day. Then again, she changed her sheets three times as often as anyone I know.
When I graduate and start living a real life, I’m not sure what I’m going to do.