I’ve come to understand there are two types of homes in America–the ones that look lived in, and the ones that are spotless and have one horrifying, off-limits room.
So, for the homes that happen to be a bit more on the messy side of the spectrum (which my house is), what could possibly motivate us to clean? Some people (like myself) tend to be packrats, who have little nooks and crannies stuffed with things that, hey, I might need someday. What could create enough of a drive to pick up the towels off of the floor, move that pile of magazines off the kitchen table? One word.
I don’t understand this need for strangers/visitors to not know that we live in our house. I’ll probably get it once I’m a mom, but until then, I’ll continue to be as cheerful as possible while we make the house look more presentable than it has in four months.
Except for my room. Mine is the catch-all place when company comes. But hey, I’m sure I’ll find a place to sleep tonight, after I move the clothes, boxes, and piles of trinkets.
I just won’t be able to get out of bed again in the morning.