I would like to state, right out of the box, that I am not a neat freak. Any person who walks into my room at home would attest to that fact and I am sure my mother would be more than willing to comment on the fact as well.
In fact she did, less than a week after I get home from school on break a photo of the floor in my room is up on facebook with the ever snarky comment, “Yup, Michaela’s home.”
I don’t really have a problem with that at all. I know I make messes where I stay fro extended periods of time I just love my things to be spread out. I love the convenience of having a stack of books next to my bed waiting for me to use them next two my shoes in the place where I stepped out of them next to my open and rummaged through suit case next to the box of things from christmas I have yet to find a home for.
It is comforting to me in a way and yet if you were to look at my room at school (during a week when I am not stressed out beyond belief) you would think the exact opposite of me. I have laundry in the laundry bag my drawers are organized my movies and games are aligned perfectly.
When I am stressed out I will start dropping things onto the floor next to my bed or piling them precariously at the end. This is for comfort because organizing can be strenuous at times.
The only organization I will do over and over when stressed is the constant shuffle and reorganization of my bookcase.
With my bookcase I am a neat freak. I need my books to be flush along the edge and if I can help it then the books are all the same height along it. I try and make them look as nice as possible switching between stacking horizontally and lining up vertically. Not to mention trying to make it so that they all fit because there have been times where I get it all set and everything is full and I turn around and notice that one book is has been laying forgotten there for who knows how long.
So I have places and moods where spreading out and making a mess are comforting and there are objects that need to be in order for me to feel like my life is in order.
My mom used to joke when I was a child that I loved to organize things and its true, I do love organizing things. I would go over to a friends house and line up their games and put their controllers away and make all the cords neat. I would put the board games in boxes in an even stack and do anything else just to make it clean.
Then I would come home to the mess that is my room and be perfectly content there.
Sometimes this makes me feel like I have one foot in the door way and one foot outside. I can be comfortable in both environments but it isn’t true. I can be uncomfortable in both environments. I hate being around other people’s messes and when my room is organized at home it feels sterile and unlived in.
I think this is why as a child I organized other people’s things. I don’t like other people’s messes and am more than happy to clean them for them but I need my mess to be around me. I have an organized chaos. I know where I put things even if it looks like just a pile of stuff to other people. Sometimes, unless you have a perfect organization system, I feel like it can be harder to find things in an organized room than in a mess sometimes. At least in the mess you know its in the mess and not tucked away in any of 100 drawers.
I really should clean my room and start getting ready to go back to school rather than writing about what neatness and messes are better. I’ll do it soon enough.
For now, the pied piper is calling me.