It's Gotta Get Worse

My mother: "Go clean your room."
Me: "Okay."
[an hour later]
My mother: "What have you been doing?! It looks worse in here than when you started!"

Yeah, true story...on multiple occasions. Actually, the same scenario has happened even more times, in a variety of atmospheres. My office... my apartment... my car. I may have outgrown my mother telling me to clean my room, but what hasn't changed is the fact that often a bigger mess is created before any progress is seen. (I was going to post a picture of one of my messes but...I decided to keep you from that unnecessary horror.)

Of course, cleaning is often times made more difficult by my critter children. That neatly stacked paper? Prime target for a kitty dive bomb off the table. That garbage sack waiting to be filled? A perfect hiding spot! (Until it moves unexpectedly, then becomes the chamber of terror from which said critter must escape by means of frantically tearing through the bottom. So much for using that bag.)

While I want to blame my cats for making my messes even worse, the responsibility really falls on me. But...in my defense (and in finding the ultimate excuse), I've found it quite necessary to create a bigger mess before I can really clean. Necessary, as in I can't clean until the chaos is dragged out into the open and I can sort through it. What are floors for? Sorting piles of paper, books, lone socks, dust bunnies and a few unidentifiable objects. Sometimes a stray potato chip even appears from under a couch cushion (aka: spoiled food vending machine).

Thankfully, I have the wherewithal to keep cleaning past the point of chaos so I can actually accomplish my task...eventually. Interestingly enough, I've also realized there's something to be said for cleaning out the crud in my life. In order to do so, the nastiness has to be dragged to the surface and dealt with before I can overcome it and get rid of it. And while I may not have virtual critter children running around my mind and making it more difficult, my own pride does a pretty good job.

If I really want to be honest, I hate cleaning. I love the end results, and sometimes I get to the point where a particular mess is driving me crazy enough that I have to clean it...but the act of cleaning really isn't my favorite pastime. Neither is soul-cleansing my favorite activity. But both are necessary...unless one wants to be a slob inside and out for their entire life.

So go embrace the mess. And if anybody asks, just tell them you're cleaning. For without a worse, there would be no better.