My mess is no longer charmingly wretched. You know, I can appreciate an ensemble of mis-matched socks, a shirt randomly picked- so big it hugs the bum (who needs pants), arms holding more coffees than they can carry, inky words on skin left from the previous night. At that point, it’s still workable; this person is open to the world, teetering off it a little bit, taking things as they come. Spontaneous, slap-dash, still-okay.
I, on the other hand, have to get my shit together. Throwing away receipts and rubbish the moment it’s generated will save me an hour at that end of the week when I have to dump the stack that has accumulated in my bag and look for wrappers scattered around the room. At the very least, the mess I create is confined to my side of the room… My room-mate is another can of beans. Still, my clutter has finally gotten out of hand and I’m not comfortable in/ with it. I’m going to change. By the end of this year, I will be much more organized and the people who have known me before university will be pleasantly surprised. I’ve always been clumsy, slightly late to meetings and such, oblivious to dates (I make educated guesses), and half-way prepared. In other words: fluid, go-with-the-flow, spontaneous. I don’t need things to be exact unless I’m forced to- when the situation demands it. I prefer dribbles, splatters and expressive strokes over squares and marks made with rulers. But people can change. I can be free spirited yet find ways to prioritise what is important. I don’t use ‘free spirited’ as a euphemism for ‘pig’, it’s just that discipline and freedom aren’t easily reconciled.
The real world is annoying because you have to go out of your way to get what you want. You need to search for opportunities because someone else already is, and if you miss them, they’re gone. I cannot afford to drift aimlessly and expect to find my way, even though it seems to have worked thus far. It’s laughable to call me a control freak but this is just stressful.