Does a messy home (or office) make me anxious and cranky, or is cleaning something I just do before company comes over?
You bet that messes drive me crazy — anywhere. It’s almost an OCD with me, and not because I was brought up to believe that as members of the fairer sex, we should be neat and proper. Nor was the ‘cleanliness is next to Godliness’ adage particularly relevant in our household. I’ve tried being messy, and adopted order over chaos as a matter of practicality. Everything must be just so.
While some people may be content (and even comfortable) to have their desks swamped in Jenga tower-style stacks of paper (and I have seen those nightmares on coworkers’ desks), mine must be filed neatly in folders and out of sight. I would freak out if I had to go on a treasure hunt to locate an important document, because in all likelihood, I would probably have needed that document yesterday.
I have even less personal and professional tolerance for paper messes that are further compounded with the remnants of eating: crumbs, sticky spills, dirty dishes. Coffee or coke that has stained the bottom of cups and glasses. They are the perfect breeding grounds for germs and bacteria. Oh, you won’t catch me washing my hands over and over, and singing “Happy Birthday” in full. But I subscribe to the personal mantra that “a disorderly home is the sign of a disorderly mind.” That’s right, my house must have that neater than neat, unlived-in look. Deserted might be a better word.
Even so, I will be quite fastidious (is that redundant?) about a clean house, just before company comes over. Not that friends and neighbours will have too much to complain about, anyway.
- Daily Prompt: Odd Couple (dailypost.wordpress.com)