Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Help me! I'm a slob.


Okay, true confessions. I'm a slob. I can't help myself. I don't know what's wrong with me. It's seems so simple. You use something--you put it away. Step one, step two. But it doesn't work that way in my world. In my world it's--you use something, then you stare at it for a month, then you trip over it for a couple more weeks, then you realize company's coming. Panic ensues--the family is put on code red and eventually semi-neatness is restored.

I realize a relatively intelligent human being shouldn't live this way, but I come by my slobbiness naturally. It's a inherited trait. Like dimples and teenage acne, so I don't think I should have to take responsibility for the fact that, right now, there's a sandal and a broken bridle mixing it up with the dirty dishes on my kitchen table. I once found a dead mouse stuck to my mother's floor. That's right. A dead mouse. (Don't tell her I told you.) So obviously I can't help myself.

In my defense, I'm creative. Really. Okay, right now I don't have much proof because I can't seem to write to save my soul, but I mean...on a larger scale. Such as, I'd rather cook than clean up (although in actuality I don't do either).

Right now I'm working on a costume for my daughter's county fair horse show. One year she was Pippi Longstocking on her purple-spotted horse. This year she's going to be a flower. Her noble steed shall evolve into a honey bee. Ridiculous you say? I absolutely agree. Especially since I can't sew. But the creative gene doesn't necessarily involve talent. It's one of the sad truths of life. So I just limp along with what I have, which happens to be...a sandal, a broken bridle and a ton of soiled crockery.

So come on, true confessions, tell me your dirty little secrets. How messy are you?

8 comments:

Helen Brenna said...

I'm not messy as much as disorganized. I just don't know what to do with all the stuff we accumulate. My house might look clean and uncluttered, but don't open the closet doors!

anne frasier said...

i'm not sure i want to touch that question other than to admit i'm a slob. if i answered truthfully i'd have to change my name. again.



we used to have a white mule and my daughter was at the unicorn age so she got the idea she wanted the mule to be a unicorn in a parade. she made a horn out of white satin, complete with silver and white strands of small beads. we attached the horn to a sort of head belt made from a transparent milk jug. it worked pretty well, although the horn flopped a little. my daughter wore a flowing white gown. at that time her hair was about waist-length, blond and curly so she pretty much completed the picture. the mule ... well, if you've ever been around a mule you know they are total assholes, but he actually took the humiliation pretty well.

Susan Kay Law said...

I'm pretty much of a slob, too. Not dirty - everything's clean underneath - but cluttered. Never could see the point of putting something away I'm just going to use again in a day or two. Or making a bed I'm going to climb back into in a few hours.

My office is the worst. I need all the books I'm using for research, all the clippings and notes, printouts of various incarnations of the ms., all the great snippets of conversation I wrote on programs and desposit slips and post-its, all spread around me.

Weird thing, there are a few things I'm incredibly anal about. I, too, alphabetize my spices and my books. Which probably proves what are the truly important things in my life. :)

Susie

Unknown said...

I'm still fabergasted that Anne had a mule. Does she live some sort of double life that I know nothing about or is it my imagination?

anne frasier said...

lois: :D

the sad truth is that i'm getting old enough to have lived a few lives.

Anonymous said...

ringing in from Chicago... just can't make myself do the damn dishes..

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