Expose something messy or dirty you’d usually hide.
All of the things. I’m going to have to pick one or two or three because I have a lot of messy and dirty things I could expose. And not like that, you pervs. I just have a lot of areas in my house that I am ashamed of their state. But, in the spirit of living shame-free, I shall show them to you.
NOT. LIKE. THAT.
Now, to be fair to myself, there are some things I am very particular about. For one, I keep my bookshelf in alphabetical order. My first reaction to bookshelf organization, would be to colour coordinate them in a rainbow. I enjoy things organized by colour.
But then Layer 2 of my OCD yells at Layer 1. “NO. NO. NO. THE ALPHABET TAKES PRECEDENCE OVER THE RAINBOW. RULES MUST BE KEPT. ORDER MUST BE MAINTAINED. START WITH A. END WITH Z.” And so, with every new book purchased, the entire shelving unit must be reorganized. It may not be as visually appealing as my closet, but it calms my nerves knowing exactly when I look for a particular author. Adam P. Knave – middle shelf, dead center.
Sorted alphabetically by author then chronologically, unread books are tagged.
But then, despite a deep love of sorting and organizing collections, something happens when it’s a bunch of random items. I just…fail to care. When you combine a bunch of random items with a flat surface? Well, forget about it. That’s where I start junk piles. I tend to throw stuff on top of stuff and ignore the growing disgusting mess.
My dresser, piled high with clothes requiring repairs, receipts and tags, and colourful costume jewellery (colour-coordinated, of course).
My washroom cupboard, jammed full of every toiletry you can think of. Including breastfeeding pads and nipple cream. I haven’t breastfed for over 2 years. Also a bath pillow, fully inflated. I’ve had two baths in 5 years.
My desk. I…have no words. Although, I’m pretty sure that, upon reflection, I’ve had help with this one. I certainly don’t own a purple chefs hat or a toy microphone.
So there it is. My mess exposed. These things are normally hidden behind doors – bedroom, cupboard, office – but here they are. Fuzzed out because my shame may be “less”, but it certainly isn’t gone.