Tuesday, 16 November 2010

I'm a mess.

I feel like I've blogged about this before, but I am continually astounded, befuddled and bemused by my innate ability to create mess. It's actually very impressive; I actually got to the stage where I can no longer fit my laptop on my desk, which is slightly beside the point since I can't actually sit at my desk because both of my chairs are covered in stuff, I'm currently unsure of the location of my bookshelf, I haven't seen my rug in weeks, I have to take a flying leap to get into bed, and I can't actually open my fridge. Today I decided that enough was enough and it was time to start clearing. Logic dictated that I start in the door way and work inwards. Thus far I have made to in line with my bedside table. Which is a meter in. In 45 minutes. It's pretty impressive.

My tidying adventures led me to ponder many soul searching questions, such as what is the nature of chaos, where does dust come from, and perhaps most importantly why can't I snap my fingers and have everything clear itself like Mary Poppins does? 

It is interesting though, I feel like in York my room was generally also a mess, but it bothered me less, perhaps because I lived in a house with 6 other people who hadn't seen their floors in weeks. People here tidy. Alot. I haven't seen a seriously mouldy mug in any one's room but my own for a long time, it's almost as if American students aren't looking for penicillin in their daily lives. Generally people's beds are made, their floors are clear and their washing up is done. The only people I know who claim to have untidy rooms, usually are referring to a pile of clothing on the floor and clutter on the desk, which really is a poor effort in my opinion. I even know someone who owns a mini-hoover for tidying emergencies... no joking...

My initial knee-jerk reaction to the question - 'what happened in here?!?!' is to claim that my things move themselves while I'm not looking. And whilst this seems like the most probable explanation for the state my room finds itself in, my hoarding habit probably doesn't really help, nor my impulse to dump everything on the floor when I get into my room and get into bed. I have this strange idea that when I take my clothes off before getting into bed at night, if I put them on a chair, I might wear them again at some point, when in reality what happens is that the pile gets bigger and bigger until I decide it is threatening to over run my room, or I've run out of clean t-shirts and then I go through put everything in the wash and start again, because it's been so long since I've worn things that I've forgotten whether I inadvertently spilt tomato soup on the purple or the green t-shirt.

I sometimes wonder where my inability to control my stuff comes from.My family, whilst not being the tidiest people on the planet, really don't seem to have my level of skill at tidying. My mother asked me when we skyped today whether the mess in my room was getting as bad as when she'd seen my room in York. The irony of the situation is that when she came to my room in York it wasn't even as bad as it had been. My washing up was even done, and I seem to remember I had clean sheets. The truth of the matter is that I seem to be able to create mess just as quickly as I can tidy it. It's like an endless vicious circle.

I'm hoping my untidiness a phase that I will eventually grow out of, because if I'm still like this when I have teenaged kids I'm going to struggle to hold my own in the 'you don't even tidy your room' argument, which seems to be a staple of the teenager experience. But for now I'm going to get back to task at hand and attempt to tidy the next meter or so of room.

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