I've been sitting around half-dressed (half-dressed meaning wearing half real clothes and half jammies, as opposed to half-dressed as being half naked...uh...just to be clear) all day and shooting glances out of the corner of my eye to my vacuum cleaner, which has been beckoning to me to get feisty with it and give it a good shoving around.
I really do need to clean my house. It's not like it's filthy or anything, I'm pretty reasonably most of the time a clean person, it just...I guess I'll just have to come out and say it. I'm a piler. It's true, I pile stuff. Everywhere.
I clean my house, and then begin making piles of things. On the dining room table, on the living room coffee table, on my computer desk, in my guest bedroom...everywhere I make piles. Piles of stuff that don't even belong in the room I piled them in, it was just convenient to put it there rather then walking a dozen steps to put it where it belongs. My laziness will eventually be the death of me, I shall die smothered by my piles of crap that I have perilously teetering on the edge of every visible flat (and not so flat) surface of my house.
So, in order to combat my Obsessive Piling Disorder, I force myself to clean up my piles at least once a week, but it's more like once every month or so, and then I give myself a treat. Like...ummm...a sticker, or a new book, or stalking my current TV boyfriend.
Once it's done, I have clean slate on which to pile again. The only problem is, is that even though it really only takes me an hour or two to pick everything up, it's like pulling my own teeth out with pliers to force myself to do it.
It's a constant struggle that eventually leads to things said to myself I really didn't mean, and then being forced to put myself in time out for shoving everything under my bed. Putting things under the bed, does not mean you cleaned it up.
I don't have that much to do. I need to vacuum, clean my kitchen (dishes are perfect for piling!), and mop my floors. Also, I need to rearrange my living room furniture so that I can put the tree I'm picking up tomorrow next to the window. Right now there is a recliner type chair there. It would be nice to have a big strong guy to move it for me, not because I'm a girl and can't move it myself, but because it's more fun to watch a cute guy do it instead. Vapid and sexist, but true.
Sometimes I think I should just throw away everything in my house, and then I wouldn't have to clean stuff anymore, because there would be nothing left to clean.
Creepy BK King.
Haunts me in the night it does,
With its big whopper.