When it comes to my cluttered, filthy pigsty of an apartment, and the reason so few people have been allowed inside of it for longer than I care to admit, I've been repeating the same line to friends and family for months now...
The person I'm talking to will laugh a little and then move on to another piece of conversation. I wonder, if they could actually SEE my apartment, would that line be funnier or infinitely sadder?
Or worse yet, would it be a cause for concern? Probably all of the above.
I have dedicated entire days and weekends to the act of getting rid of clutter, cleaning up my messes, organizing the insanity, and after a long stretch of hours, I stand back and it looks like only an inch and half of space is now clean and clear.
How could I have gathered so much unneeded junk that I, for some reason, have decided to hold on to by putting it in a place where I can never find it if I actually need it? And how could I care less about cleaning and making a bed and folding clothes than I have in the past when I never gave a damn before?!?
Maybe it's my way of keeping potential boyfriends at bay. I've heard women talk about not shaving their legs before a date so that they would not even be tempted to sleep with the guy at the end of the evening. Maybe my mess is my unconscious way of staying single. Not something I want, but something that seems to be continuing, nonetheless.
For the longest time, my apartment appeared to be in order, but if you opened up a certain drawer or closet door, you could see where the mess had been relocated for the time being. One of my friends referred to this as, "Outside control, inside chaos," which was and is the most accurate description of me I have ever heard.
So, what does it mean now that my chaos has overtaken my control?