My mother-in-law came by last night with a Dyson. What?! Yeah, you heard right. She bought us a brand spanking new Dyson. Now, although I think it's an amazing gift, Mr. Branflake nearly cried with happiness. You see, he is a neat freak and I am not. Although I hate germs I am not what you call organized or orderly. In fact, I am completely and utterly the opposite.
image via Sunken Treasure
I know that in Mr. Branflake's heart, this photo is how he wants our home.
But for some reason I cannot get myself to commit to this lifestyle.
We always joke that with his aversion to clutter and my fear of germs that we would have the cleanest house in the world. But instead we just annoy each other.
For example, his bookshelves are perfectly in order. Mine are a fat mess with papers and books laying about. It looks more like a book graveyard than a bookcase while his resembles a library. No, his is more organized than a library.
I am trying everyday to be more organized but it's hard. Give me a ten hour rehearsal on two hours of sleep and a a granola bar for dinner any day. But to find a place for every thing that I own? I count that as almost impossible and just frustrating.
Some consider my disorganized life a trademark of an artist. Although I think it's a negative and superficial stereotype towards artists, in this case it's absolutely true. My dance bag? Chaos. My side of the closet that is slowly creeping to his side? It looks like Forever 21 on Black Friday. Let's not get started on my night stand that holds everything from books to Christmas cards from 2009.
How about you?
Are you organized and orderly?
Or are you like me and have a constant rotating pile of clothes
from the chair to the bed to the chair to the hamper?
In college I was at least ten minutes tardy to my 8 am French Class every single time.
My teacher's reaction?
She would get this wistful look in her eye and say,
Ah! La Boheme! (The Artist!)
She knew I was a dancer and somehow that made my tardiness totally understandable.