Most things we write come out of a moment of enthusiasm
It’s like twisting up you arm to pull the sleeve away, just so you can see your watch and check the time, but then you realise the watch isn’t there because you forgot to put it on this morning and all you are looking at is an impressive tan line. It’s true, opening the cutlery drawer and seeing no teaspoons when that was all you wanted is the exact same sensation. Except instead of not knowing the time, you have to use a dessert spoon to stir your hot chocolate/coffee/tea/other delicious hot beverage because you can’t be bothered checking the dishwasher.
I am not entirely sure where this post so going, just so you know.
I’ll be honest, I am not a tidy person. Things go lost sometimes, most recently my copy of my employment contract. When living with my parents they called my bedroom the black hole and jokingly forbade me from taking the infant sister in there for fear she would get lost. At least, I think they were joking… My desk right now is a mess, sloping stacks of books, CDs, stationary, papers, bank statements, Centrelink letters (they are single handedly keeping the logging industry going), a caster wheel from my dodgy IKEA desk drawers that wouldn’t stay on, a folder or two and a writing competition entry form. I’m not even at my desk right now, that is just what I can recall from memory. It is part from laziness, part from the consistent self delusion that I will get to dealing with the newest addition within a day. Not the case, and as a result I have letter I was going to send about 12 months ago to my superannuation fund still sitting on my desk. The funny part is, I have moved house since I got all that paper work together. That means I have taken that letter from my old desk, put it in a box, basket or something similar, transported it and have unpacked it back onto my desk. I am only just realising how repulsive this is. For shame, for shame…
Another thing that has just struck me, for all my newest subscribers, this is the first post they will see.
I don’t actually feel super guilty about the state of my desk or the surrounding area (ie, the house). I more or less know where everything. Organised mess, if you will. The house isn’t terribly messy, just not pristine or in perfect order. I have laundry on the couch from a few days ago that still needs to be folded and put away. Not to mention the clothes next to, and on top of my chest of drawers. It is almost equal to the amount of clothes inside the drawers potentially. I’m not sure how my boyfriend puts up with it, considering he is suitably neat and tidy.
Anyway. It doesn’t matter really. The teaspoons will be moved from the dishwasher soon. In the mean time I shall continue to hope that tidiness comes with age, like wisdom.
Gosh, what a waste of cyberspace…