I went to an F-Rated high school where lexile reading scores suggest the reading level was frozen at 4th grade (full story), the misery in that science lab was palpable when our teacher forced students to select a creature from Neptune's sea to write a proverbial book on- quite possibility longer than anything some of these kids have read. He relished in their pain. I imagined his inner Mr. Burns monologue, "Yes, yes, these teens have youth and beauty I've long lost, but at this moment, like He-Man, I...HAVE...THE POWER!"
But I was an AP English student that wrote extra essays for fun. For breakfast. I savored my Essay Blessing. The day before the deadline I swiftly cranked out my intentionally silly, fluffy, 45-page, double-spaced paper. It's easy to elaborate on a whale with a horn-tooth vikings sold as medicine in medieval Europe. It took 2 hours. When I got to class, I smugly centered my essay on the desk, proud I'd "beat" McAssHat's system by completing a "difficult" essay he'd given us months to prepare in a night. Then another revelation for my pompous teenage satisfaction- I finished early, the essay wasn't due until the next day. I was incredible. I was Batman!
Resigned to her life in squalor.The teacher, after a likely well-timed absence of its mention, reminded the class of the next-day deadline for their sea beast bible. His eyes rolled back in pleasure* as he savored the agonized moans with perverted satisfaction. I calmed some mild hysteria with my one-night essay story. The girl beside me brightened, her pretty amber eyes shining. Triumphantly she literally growled, "Yes! It's possible!"
My apartment was a little like that essay, but while I intentionally ignored my essay I couldn't will my body to address my home-disaster. Like a war criminal isolated in a lonely cell, I couldn't recall the days that passed in my pit of squalor. I committed the sin of sloth day after day in a haze. My mess piled up, grew sentience, threatened to destroy me, haunted my dreams.* The dust bunnies mated and multiplied.** Merchandise spread like a disease to every countertop. I tripped over scattered objects.** Every night I vowed that cleaning the apartment to perfection would be the next day's priority #1 but the inertia cycle continued. Rinse. Repeat.
The day before yesterday I buckled down, summoned will power from the Castle Grayskull and cleared every trace of mess. I surveyed my sparkling kingdom with a sense of awe. One day weeks ago would have prevented me from living in a state of shame and anxiety over my pathetic mess.
You and I are homo sapiens with built-in energy-saving survival mechanisms that make you lazy. Natural selection ensured human beings that conserved their energy for times of need passed on their genes and that's just one of the myriad of reasons why your will conspires to prevent you from completing any one simple life-improving task- like screwing the cap back on your god damn toothpaste. The same wall keeps you from sending out that next round of applications, opening up that online shop you've always wanted, and the other simple succession of steps you know will move you toward your life goals.
I got an A on my hyper-rushed Narwhal essay. I give myself an A+ on cleaning my apartment. I am amazing. I am 11th grade me again. I am BATMAN! Happy Spring Equinox. Go clean your damn room.
Do THOSE THINGS you've been putting off, now. Capricious Season Change Day demands it!
So what are you working on cleaning this season? I'll be sharing updates as I find the best way to track inventory, store receipts, use essential oils, display all of my ample collections and make products/DIYS to help everyone else get organized too! A "master spreadsheet" telling me where all my art supplies are located would be nice, too.