I am easily one of the messiest people I know. My only close rival is my significant other, so with our powers combined, our tiny apartment often looks post-apocalyptic, to say the least.
So Spring cleaning isn't so much a joy as it is a painful, season-long exercise in heavy lifting and archaeological discoveries of historic significance.
In my mind, my apartment is a beautifully stylish minimalist paradise.
But in reality, despite my best intentions, it somehow never deviates too far from this...
Even my best attempts to "get organised" often end up half completed, as evidenced by my brilliant concept of packing up rarely used clothes and books into boxes. 3 months later, two boxes still sit in the living room half packed, and the other two are empty, taking up an inordinate amount of room in what is easily the world's smallest wardrobe. Ingenious!
Is there a housework equivalent of Viagra?
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi31J4Ulf7XTYPUYuXykFbADdlTmUZjYyRCuucYE7bIvjQqupzgm9p6NnwvqcqfHycWsjl3p8k_mVG2WoNUYTPVPycXjVExS8r5ZNDr1rS4eojod7SqO1ZOojZHF_dzu_x_uDQjOESKERk/")
2 comments:
Hmmm, I think there is a housework version of viagra and its called having a deadline!
Ever notice when you have a pile of work to get through, or maybe a big assingment due, suddenly the housework starts to seem really appealing... ah, the joys of procrastination!
The fine art of procrastination! How could I forget? It all starts when you're looking for a textbook, and 12 hours later you've reorganised your whole library by colour, scrubbed the bathroom from top to bottom, painted a few old pieces of furniture that have been neglected in the back yard for a few years, but haven't yet put a word on paper.
Ah those were the days!
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