Drinking honey cinnamon tea.
Thinking I may need to wear at least some mascara today.
My hair is getting longer. And that just really means that it is getting thicker. I have a bush growing on my head. A big poof. I’m gonna look like my roomate’s pomeranians real soon.
It is weird how certain corners of my apartment look very need and tidy and clean and are right up next to complete disorder and chaos. The same with my room. My room is a clusterfuck of messiness that makes perfect sense to me. If it were not so, I wouldn’t be able to find anything.
I know that the clothes on the floor in my smaller closet are workout-clothes-that-haven’t-been-been-sweated-in-enough-yet. And in the other bigger closet is my hamper with dirty clothes, too many shoes strewn about in a haphazard manner that is my own specific organization, and clothes on the floor that are NOT workout clothes that can be worn again. Like jeans and pants that have been worn for one occassion and sweatshirts that were only worn for a few hours of chilliness.
The papers strewn about my desk aren’t really strewn. They are in loosely neat piles. On on side is tax stuff I need to send to my mom. In the middle is some old SAG DVDs that I haven’t yet watched. On top of those and everywhere else are loose papers of stuff I have yet to put fully together into my chapbook for my next writing class.
Beneath my desk is my carry-on luggage that I unpacked but never put back away in the small closet from when I went to NYC with my best friend back in October. My back pack is under there too because I was cleaning it out the other day and got distracted.
You see, I know that. And I know that it is there because I am GOING to get back to it and then finally put it away in the small closet with the rest of my luggage and purses/bags.
I won’t put that small carry-on rolly-bag away, though, because I am just going on another trip in less than two months, so why go thru all the trouble? I’d have to take everything out of the small closet and take all the other luggage bags out of each other to put that one–the smallest–inside of all the rest for proper storage. Ugh…I hate that.
And that just made me think of the pile of 3 or 5 books beside my bed. I am on the last 10 pages of all of half of them and the other half I won’t put away because I keep telling myself I will start them when I finish the others…but I still have 3 others I’ve just started in each of my purses.
Deconstructing the clutter in my room may have just helped me navigate the clutter of my early morning brain right now.
That, or it was a perfect way to avoid it.
Just like I’m avoiding the basket of clean clothes next to my desk that all just need hung up and/or folded and put away but I justify not doing so because I put half of them away already and this other half is clothes that are the most often worn. So, why would I put them away when there is about a 70% chance that they will be worn again in the next 72 hours?