I’m a very clean person, but I don’t like cleaning. Does that make sense?
What I mean is, I love everything being neat and tidy and in the right spot, but it takes me days before I actually muster the energy to force myself to do any of that.
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I guess you could say I’m a very reluctant neat freak.
I wasn’t always this way. In fact, I used to be totally unbothered by clutter.
My mom used to spend hours trying to help my sister and I clean up our bedroom when we were kids. Somehow, after those lengthy tidy-ups, our room would always revert back to its original, disgusting state of strewn Barbie dolls, crumpled clothes, and about a million loose beads.
Seriously, were we considering starting our own bracelet business? What was with all the beads?
Of course, now that I’m older and actually live on my own, I really try not to let my place get to that point.
The “pig sty” point, as my mom would say.
So I give myself a little chore list every week and devote an entire day to scrubbing this place from top to bottom until it is absolutely sparkling. Or, you know, at least until it looks decent.
It’s definitely not easy, and every week I find myself dreading that day of mopping, wiping, and tidying.
But I’ve found that as long as I force myself to do a big clean-up once a week, I can avoid an even bigger clean-up that would inevitably need to happen.
That’s usually enough to get me off my butt.
Maybe one day I’ll be the kind of person who looks forward to cleaning, maybe even finds it therapeutic.
But until then, I’ll just keep doing it my way.
After all, a little mess never hurt anyone, right?
