I am drowning in school and life.
This being my first fall semester, I am finding the last few weeks of school is seriously clashing with any and all holiday good cheer. I have a dozen assignments due but instead of dutifully chip-chipping away essays galore I am instead organizing the closets and clothing bins. I have scoured ceilings, sorted papers that had piled up on my side table, matched socks of all things. I have swept thirty times to day alone.
You see, the last bit of the semester is in the way of whatever manic cleaning demon possesses me every December.
I have had some time to consider why I feel the need to scrub the house and tidy every nook and cranny of the house every December since I can remember, I have chalked it up to feeling done with the clutter, nesting, and binge-watching Hoarders.
In actuality I believe it has more to do with the feeling of time slipping through my fingers, with less then thirty days of the year left, I can’t let 2017 slip away a dirty disheveled mess, it isn’t dignified or right. Plus I just feel like a new year should start with a clean slate, even a clean house. An empty canvas ready for new messes and chaotic clutter. Time to move that rotting apple core from behind the couch and make way for the cheese stick that is too come.
But all of this cleaning is coming at a price, and the price might well be a good grade.
Its compulsive, I promise myself I shall finish one essay and then I might bury my arms into a cupboard ready to merrily toss away expired tins of tomato soup whilst wearing my Santa hat and bobbing my head to Jingles Bells. I promise myself this lovely picture of domestic bliss and I head off in excitement, the essay untouched. No clue what the topic even is.
Ah well, I have fought it all day, and settled in my chair I begin to type, my eyes straying just the once to an empty mug on the coffee table, and then it is too late. I am up to take the offensive mug to the sink, on the way I grab a dirty sock that is dangling from a lamp shade, and a candy wrapper from in front of the stairs, once in front of the sink I count out the dishes (seven) and decide they must be done before they pile up! And then of course the washing machine is not running (heaven forbid!) and that must be filled, and the sheets in the dryer should be folded before they wrinkle………..
The essays will never be finished.