Lynn's Comments: It's strange how we slip from being careless and sloppy to fanatically clean. For years, I maintained a house so tidy you could enter any room and find every last thing in place. My lingerie was rolled, folded and colour coordinated, my linens were in perfect piles, my bathroom cabinets immaculate. Even if it was out of sight, my stuff was in order.
Now that I live on my own, however, I have reentered the "who gives a ****" phase of life and I view my habitation much as I did as a kid of 10. I haven't made my bed since last week. My work has spilled into the dining room where I can easily get to it and if the dishes sit on the counter overnight...ehhh! I don't do laundry until I run out. I don't pick stuff up until I have to - and I can only describe this lack of decorum as liberating.
The other day as I was leaving my bedroom comfortably littered, I distinctly heard my mother say "For heaven's sake stop living like a hermit and take care of this mess!"
I thought about all the times I railed at my own kids for living in squalor and I sympathized with them. No matter how well you pick up after yourself, a place is going to deteriorate. I figure "what's the point?" So, like a kid, I only clean up if I have to. My incentive is company. Every time the mess gets to the point of no return, I invite friends for dinner. It's time again to shovel out, so...yesterday, I bought steak.
