Yesterday I was hit with the grim realization that I’d let my home slip into disarray again. Home life for me is a constant battle against a woman who sees every flat surface as a place to pile trash and dirty dishes and a man who comes home drunk and eats us out of stock while leaving his dirty dishes and scraps of food in various rooms. Sure, some day I’ll be able to live on my own again and they can cultivate their hoarder house how they see fit, but not while I’m around.
Eating in Your Bedroom
I was surprised to learn that this was fairly common among adults. There’s really no reason to eat in your bedroom, ever. We might be tempted to forgive teenagers for this because their bedroom is their only sanctuary against the codependent “advice” of their mothers, but that’s a poor excuse. Enabling isolation is a completely different topic. I know, I know. I’m “not a parent” but by default that makes me a better parent than most people. 0 is more than -5 and all that.
So if you eat in your bedroom, for the love of all that is holy please stop. It’s childish and disgusting and it’s an absolute guarantee that people who eat in their bedrooms also leave dirty dishes and empty bottles all over their fucking floor. This drives me insane when I see it because you know that when you’re invited over for company you’re seeing what it looks like after they’ve cleaned up. What kind of person finishes drinking something and then throws the bottle on the floor? Alcoholics do that. I should know.
If You See It, Fix It
This is the simplest of concepts but virtually nobody does it and nobody at all does it consistently, not even I, your most perfect host! Imagine how clean the world would be if we all cleaned something up when we saw a mess? You’d be able to eat off of the pavement in the middle of Times Square. I’m not suggesting we pick up trash in the streets or clean up after the homeless (although it’s not a horrible idea) but rather that you use this mentality in your home.
When I moved back home, the shower head in our main bathroom was so caked in mold that water wasn’t coming out of several of the … whatever they’re called. Water-massage-holes. Instead of being massaged by lightly pressurized water, my mother was being massaged by colonies of fungus and bacteria pelting her face. For it to get like this it would have had to have been ignored for years. It took me 5 minutes to clean and sanitize it. Jesus Christ give me strength.
If I just threw my hands up and said “oh well, my family is disgusting and obviously mentally deranged”, my house would be featured on an episode of Extreme Hoarders by now. But NAY I refuse to live surrounded by rotten food, feces (yes my brother leaves feces smeared on the wall and floor of the bathroom), and clutter (my mother hasn’t thrown away a magazine since 1972).
Don’t Complain or Give In
You would rightly assume that this blog post is a thinly disguised complaint but when I say don’t complain, I mean “don’t complain and then use it as an excuse to not do anything”. The modus operandi of the majority of mankind is to complain about people, places, things, and situations, and then just throw our hands up and wait for somebody else to deal with it.
If you think about it, literally every problem we face is caused by this syndrome. It’s far easier to complain about our president, the climate, a pandemic, and the stupidity of millennials (of whom I belong and I am clearly smarter than you) than to actually organize and do something about any of these problems (of course statistically for half of you our president isn’t a problem, just wait a few more years).
So stop complaining. My levels of happiness and self-esteem increased dramatically once I stopped allowing myself to be involved in gossip and workplace drama. I stopped watching the news as there is never anything newsworthy in it. I had to be told by someone on WordPress that there was a tornado that decimated a city just a couple hours away. Is that newsworthy to me? No! I don’t know anybody who lives there. Why would I want to have the stress and anxiety of knowing that a bunch of strangers either died or had their livelihoods destroyed? It’s not relevant. It surely sucks for the people it happened to but we can’t worry about the entire planet’s problems… that’s why nobody does anything! When you constantly take in all of the bullshit that happens around the world, it seems like you’re completely powerless.
But I Digress
I’m not suggesting we start taking on problems outside of ourselves or try to change the world. Maybe you could try, you know, if you felt up to it.
Just clean your damn room.