I'm not a tidy person. Anyone who's been to my house knows that this is an understatement. I have an untidy mind. I just don't know how to be neat.
When I was a kid my Mom would say "go clean your room" and I just wouldn't know where to begin. If I figured out where to start I wouldn't know what to do next. It's exactly the same now. I go to put something away and I notice a big dust pile in another room so I go get the whisk broom and sweep it up. When I'm in the kitchen emptying the dustpan I see a smudge on the floor and wipe it up. Then I notice that the handwashing I've done is dry and ready to be folded so then I go do that. I take the clothes upstairs to put them away and see that the toilet needs cleaning. By the time I've done that I've forgotten which room I was supposed to be straightening. It doesn't seem to make much difference in any case because all the rooms are equally trashed. It doesn't occur to me to dust or vacuum until I'm just about to have guests.
Plus there are some things I don't want to put away. Projects I haven't gotten to yet that I'll forget if they're out of sight.
My studio looks like an explosion at the glitter/google-eye factory. Every surface is covered with unfinished paintings, paint jars, palettes, beads, magic markers, crochet doilies that I'm trying to work into a painting somehow, the aforementioned glitter and google eyes, pompoms - all kinds of random stuff. It's actually helpful in the studio though because just seeing all that stuff juxtaposed gives me ideas for how to use it that I never would have had if everything had been stowed away properly in labeled bins.
Of course visitors see this kind of thing and think I'm mentally ill. Heck, maybe I am. But I'm not dangerous. I'm just profoundly untidy.
Speaking of bins, here's a picture of the bin of yarn next to my chair. Obviously the bin of a complete nutball.
Fay's "trapdoor" from when she had her MRI and spinal tap. She looks brown but that's probably something to do with the flash.
The tooth she just broke chewing on a bully stick.
That's the second tooth she's broken in two weeks! I'm going to have to stop giving her bully sticks. Then what will she do? I've been trying to get her to leave off her hobby of sprouting tumors. I hope she doesn't go back to that!
So have I put off tidying long enough? Shall I get back to it? Ugh. I don't think I'll even get to making a salad today.
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