Whole Battles Waged in Our Heads

When I came home from my grandmother's this afternoon, I noticed that my boyfriend had cleaned up the condo; that is, the condo minus my half of the bedroom. I'm immediately offended. He wants me to clean! How rude! I spent the next twenty minutes angry, thinking he's passive-aggressively manipulated me into cleaning.

It was only after I was done (I wasn't happy about it, but I did it) that we talked and I realized that at no point did he suggest that I should clean. In fact he tried to get me to solve his Rubik's cube. I created the whole drama in my head.

Such is the life of an introvert, eh? Whole battles are waged in our heads. Grudges are held and forgiven without those around us aware of what has happened, only that we're vaguely annoyed.

Allow me this victory.

Not even 24 hours ago, I had my freshly-moved boxes and bags of stuff (including dozens of pens, pencils, and paper clips in at least three different shoe boxes) surrounding my chair. I had my piles, my dear, dear piles. I had my art and pictures and chargers for cell phones I used back in 2003.

But look now! Clean! Organized! Even Wally's relaxed, chilling in my chair while I take the picture.

"A messy room is a messy soul." (Part II)

~ Nana

I cleaned today. Two whole rooms. Granted, one was my bathroom that's smaller than a walk-in closet, and I didn't even touch inside the shower. The other room is the one I'm in now, with my computer, my binders and notebooks, my stacks of paper and bills and letters and various statements from the past five-ten years. (Prioritizing = difficult).

Some weeks just fly by while others, like this one, contain days that seem so long they have their own individual story-lines and subplots. I despise the small stuff, that which arises out of ego and insecurity. I hate it! Yet, despite knowing better, I step right in. I succumb. I worry about things I can't control, I don't choose kindness.

And so I clean. Mindless scrubbing, sorting and stacking, and throwing away of a ton of useless stuff. It looks pretty decent for the time being, though I could probably spend another hour cleaning and still have more I could do. It's finally reached the high 80s in Cincinnati, and with the humidity and my lack of air conditioning, I can only spend so long moving around.

(This is a fraction of the books I couldn't fit on my bookshelf; I like piles.)

Sorting Through the Clutter

My room is clean today. Not my bedroom, with pants thrown over my ironing board and the items I'd washed yesterday still residing in a suitcase (much more convenient than a basket for transportation), but my middle room - the place with my desk, laptop, printer, table, trolls, bookshelf, pens, coats, loose change, and other miscellaneous items.

I spent yesterday evening sorting papers, piling and un-piling some while disposing of others. And around 9:00pm, I vacuumed. We'll see how long it stays this way, but I think I'll be more inclined to hang up my jacket when I come home or put my shoes somewhere other than the middle of the floor.

Off to a coffee shop to grade (and to consume caffeine and bagel) and then the library to work - we get self-checkout later this week, which I had at my old branch.

I'm doing better. I've plowed through. My brothers and I spent Easter at my grandmother's, and she's moving around with more ease. She still gets tired very quickly, and slept a lot of the time we were there, but every day she feels stronger.