I don’t know exactly when it happened, but sometime in the last month, our apartment seems to be almost back to the same square it was in before I started my whole 50 Weeks to Organized ordeal.
Okay, maybe that’s a slight exaggeration—it just looks like I’m still in the MIDDLE of my 50 Weeks to Organized project.
Everywhere I look, the clutter has re-amassed itself onto every once-bare surface and my closets are once again having a difficult time staying closed. True, my spare bedroom will (hopefully) never look as ghastly or have as much stuff everywhere as it once did. But still, how on earth have all of these things managed to creep right back up on me again?
Apparently the de-cluttering of a home takes constant vigilance, something that I’m sorely lacking right now seeing as I spend far more time away from my home than in it. (Like work last week—I left the house at 6:30 A.M. and didn’t return home until 8 P.M.). I really have tried to keep up with it all–every time I’ve bought new clothes, I’ve forced myself to get rid of at least that many things (usually more), and I’m constantly trying to stay on top of all the endless putting away of jackets, purses, movies, and books, but even still—-
Stuff is EVERYWHERE.
Curiouser and curiouser.
Sometimes I think I’m not meant to be organized—like maybe there’s some hidden beauty and talent in my ability to find what I need in the midst of a mess (and maybe there’s a deep, thought-provoking life metaphor in there as well, like I’m capable of finding my purpose even amidst absolute chaos). And while I would love to let myself believe all that hogwash, I would know deep down that I would just be trying to let myself off the hook when it comes to keeping a tidy place, something I’ve been trying (and failing at) for most of my life. I guess in the end, my struggle with clutter is simply going to be a battle I’ll fight my whole life and something that will likely never come naturally to me.
Sometimes I envy people who can always keep their houses and lives in simplistic and perfect order, but then I have to remind myself that I probably have talents that they don’t, like having a desire to read literally all the time or having the ability to inhale inhuman amounts of chocolate in one sitting (and then have the motivation to go run it all off so I won’t feel guilty at all for it).
In other words, we all have our thing. My thing just happens to not be easily keeping a clean house.
I’m hoping that moving to a nicer place will help a little—maybe if my apartment actually looks nice to start out with, I’ll be more tempted to keep it that way instead of how it is now, which is that no matter how clean the place is, it still looks ghetto.
You never know. It might work.
Anyone else have “keeping a clean house” as one of their major uphill battles in life?