I am a firm believer that there are two types of people in this world – neat people and messy people. Obviously there are variations of both categories, such as neat people who like a little messiness thrown into the mix (only so they can reorganize it and make it neat again), or messy people who have occasional bouts of neatness. As much as I have tried to fight it, I happen to be a messy person. I am struck with an urge to clean about once ever week or so, and I frantically sweep and dust and clean my kitchen (but never my bathroom), only to sit back and watch everything get messy again. I’ve noticed this spilling over to my crafting life. I have a lovely image of someday having an organized craft room filled with shelves, baskets, plastic tubs and other neat people things. In this non-existent room, I have a section for sewing supplies, a yarn corner with one of those really cool three-tiered baskets overflowing with gorgeous yarn, and not a spec of dust or cat hair anywhere. I fantasize about this room as I sit on my ugly brown couch and stare at my messy piles of crafting stuff strewn around my small living room.
I finally came to realize how messy I am recently. My neighbor was joking to one of my friends that I was “the dirtiest girl [he] knows”. As much as I wish he was equating dirty with naughtiness, I knew he meant that I was kind of a slob. At first I was hurt. I’m not messy, am I? After that conversation (and by conversation I mean bloody mary fueled breakfast) I walked into my house and looked at it with a new pair of eyes… and to my chagrin, it was pretty darn messy. There are small tumbleweeds of cat hair blowing across my hardwood floor, coming to rest on my dirty and stained throw rug. There is a fine layer of dust on everything that has come to be part of my natural landscape – but in my defense this is to be expected when you live by the freeway and a large field of grass and dirt that masquerades as a pumpkin patch/Christmas tree farm for several months out of the year. My dirty clothes are strewn on my bedroom floor, where they typically live for about a week before I throw them into the laundry basket and the cycle begins again. I often leave dishes in the sink for days at a time. But does all of this mean that I am dirty?
Yesterday, after my friend’s boyfriend hit his head on a box of half-finished knitting projects that was balanced precariously on my wall furnace, I realized how much my messiness has spread into my crafting life. I start projects, abandon them haphazardly in random places in my house, and pick them up again after starting and abandoning other projects. Case in point – the offending box currently contains three unfinished projects, as well as the two completed balls of yarn I so proudly showed off here and here. My coffee table is strewn with two new projects that I began over the weekend. That is a total of five incomplete projects in my tiny living room…and this isn’t including the ones I have hidden from view. Here is photographic evidence:
As I mentioned before, I have daydreams about someday having a perfectly organized room filled with happy (even if incomplete) projects peeking out of cute wicker baskets. For some reason I feel like I don’t deserve to have these cute baskets full of happy projects just yet. Why? I’m not quite sure. Part of it is that there isn’t any room for said baskets in my living room unless I do some serious rearranging (which would in turn call for some serious cleaning…and to be honest, I don’t want to do that). Part of it is that I’m waiting until I have my magical craft room before I reward myself with baskets. Maybe the lesson to be learned here is that I should start and finish one project at a time to avoid issues like this. Or maybe I should just go to Cost Plus this weekend and buy some baskets. Hell, I deserve it, right? … right?