Warning: the contents of the following blog may be disturbing, and should not be read by anyone who cannot handle sinks full of dirty dishes, piles of unfolded and unwashed laundry, or if you are a mother who will feel the need to chide your grown child after reading these words.
Furthermore, this blog has been written for entertainment purposes (mostly) and descriptions of mess do not NECESSARILY match those of the home of the author of this blog.
Finally, if you dare to go forward, you can never turn back. So I implore you like Lemony Snicket in A Series of Unfortunate Events, “Look away, look away, look away, look away.” There is no pleasantness in what you are about to read. 😉
A Journey Beginning…
I pick up the book, desperately hoping that herein lies my solution. Messies 2… the title stares up at me. It doesn’t feel insulting, rude, or offensive. It comforts me, because I believe that the one who wrote these words is one of the few people who might really understand me.
My mother (most likely in search of a solution for me) gave me the book when she was only partway through it. “It’s kind of boring,” she said. Even so, she told me if I wanted to read it I could. So, while trying not to get my hopes up, I took the handout and began. Tears were stinging at my eyes before the end of the second page, then again several times before the end of the first chapter. Boring!?!!!! I thought… try life changing! There lives a class of people that I did not know existed. This class of people was aptly named Messies by Sandra Felton, the author of the work I held. Clearly only a Messie could relate to the profoundness that hides in the pages between the cover of this book. A Messie… someone who knows my struggle and my enemy, someone who has been where I am, staring down the barrel of a loaded dishwasher that is trying to steal my very life and all the joy it should contain, that’s who wrote this book! Only minutes after I started reading, I felt the need to pour out my soul over my excitement! So that’s what this is. Now please don’t show up at my door with a bucket of unlimited cleaning supplies or an organizer of some sort that is certain to change my life forever. This is not a cry for help. This is a confession, and an exclamation of excitement!
There are people who exist who are like me! I am not truly, all alone! I have spent my life feeling like a two or maybe even a one cow woman, but I am an eight cow woman! (This will not make sense to you unless you’ve read the book Messies 2, know the story of Johnny Lingo, or grew up in a culture where they exchange cows for brides.) I have been distraught for many years over the reality of clutter and filth in my life. I feel on the inside how my home looks on the outside… a mess. I talk with other women and they always relate to my plight.
“Oh yes, the dishes! Oh dear, the laundry! Oh my, the clutter! We’ve all been there.” I smile and I nod and I pretend that I’m just like them, but in reality I know, that none of them are just like me. They are normal people trapped in a normal cycle of mess and untidiness, but I… well, I am something else entirely. Unless they are one of the members of this secret class of clutter, they don’t really understand. When I make comments like, give me a week to clean up and then you can come to my house, people laugh. Surely I’m just being funny. Yes, surely… but no, the joke is in the joking. The truth is in the mess. And maybe even fellow Sloppy Josies can’t relate. Maybe I’m just THAT bad.
Still, I choose to believe that there are other people out there who would say. “Amen! Give me a week to clean, before you show up, then still excuse the clutter and bags of stuff I didn’t quite have time to get to, and then please allow me my secret rooms that are plastered with warning signs and yellow police tape because once you go into that room, there will be no coming back out. It will swallow you up alive! AND PLEASE! NEVER, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, OPEN UP MY REFRIGERATOR OR EVEN LOOK INTO MY BASEMENT! You will surely turn into a pillar of salt just like Lot’s wife when she looked back at the burning city of Sodom.” Yes, there must be other people out there who know what it feels like to live in a mess of that magnitude. There must be other people out there like me…