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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2cL4UOK:buttons-beads-lace replied to your post “s-leary replied to your post “good things: posting chapter 7 gave me…”
oh B, I know that feel. except I kind of do it the other way around; cleaning stuff around the house at least doesn’t require interacting with people, so I compensate for my inadequate adultiness in other aspects of life by getting way too invested in making the apartment look nice when people visit.
oh no, but that’s what I do. Maybe my mess is everywhere, but I have washed every dish and the floor, I have made dinner and breakfast and lunch, I have folded all the things I don’t know how to put away and they’re in a horrifying pile because i have no idea how to put things away and am helpless to attempt it, but God damn it the thing they’re sitting on is spotless because I cleaned the fuck out of it before I piled my shit on it because I didn’t understand where else to put my shit.
This is heavily, heavily exacerbated by my nomadic lifestyle. I live out of my car but I have to unload it at each end of the trip because I always wind up needing to haul cargo or passengers, and then I reload it, and it’s worse because I’ve never fully unpacked, and I am constantly transporting entire projects to work on in both places; all my fabric paints, all my brushes, all my markers, boxes of fabric, bags of supporting materials, all my basic sewing supplies, in bags that have been half-unpacked and shoved inside one another for ease of loading/unloading. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve transported the same jar of salt back and forth across the state in case I need to make a dyebath.
So all the Shit From My Car goes into the guest room I’m not staying in, or on the bench in the hallway in as compact a pile as I can manage, to get it out of the way, and then has to come back into my car and go back to my house and go into the living room when I’m in Buffalo, and then go back into the car……. but damn it, the dishes are done and there is NEVER dirty laundry in the basket. I can’t put it away, but I can wash it!!! so I do!!! and the guestbed is constantly covered in a three-foot-thick layer of CLEAN clothes that I don’t know where to put.
I need a week off where i stay in Buffalo and fully unpack, put everything away, clean my own house, and then make up better-organized travel versions of all my shit. But I can’t afford to do that, if I’m in this location I’m working the job that pays hourly.
And so I’m doing an entire embroidery project with an inappropriate needle because I know I own six hundred needles but I’m fucked if I know where a single one is besides this totally inappropriate one that’s not just the wrong size, the eye’s the wrong size, and also it’s bent now.
oh B, I know that feel. except I kind of do it the other way around; cleaning stuff around the house at least doesn’t require interacting with people, so I compensate for my inadequate adultiness in other aspects of life by getting way too invested in making the apartment look nice when people visit.
oh no, but that’s what I do. Maybe my mess is everywhere, but I have washed every dish and the floor, I have made dinner and breakfast and lunch, I have folded all the things I don’t know how to put away and they’re in a horrifying pile because i have no idea how to put things away and am helpless to attempt it, but God damn it the thing they’re sitting on is spotless because I cleaned the fuck out of it before I piled my shit on it because I didn’t understand where else to put my shit.
This is heavily, heavily exacerbated by my nomadic lifestyle. I live out of my car but I have to unload it at each end of the trip because I always wind up needing to haul cargo or passengers, and then I reload it, and it’s worse because I’ve never fully unpacked, and I am constantly transporting entire projects to work on in both places; all my fabric paints, all my brushes, all my markers, boxes of fabric, bags of supporting materials, all my basic sewing supplies, in bags that have been half-unpacked and shoved inside one another for ease of loading/unloading. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve transported the same jar of salt back and forth across the state in case I need to make a dyebath.
So all the Shit From My Car goes into the guest room I’m not staying in, or on the bench in the hallway in as compact a pile as I can manage, to get it out of the way, and then has to come back into my car and go back to my house and go into the living room when I’m in Buffalo, and then go back into the car……. but damn it, the dishes are done and there is NEVER dirty laundry in the basket. I can’t put it away, but I can wash it!!! so I do!!! and the guestbed is constantly covered in a three-foot-thick layer of CLEAN clothes that I don’t know where to put.
I need a week off where i stay in Buffalo and fully unpack, put everything away, clean my own house, and then make up better-organized travel versions of all my shit. But I can’t afford to do that, if I’m in this location I’m working the job that pays hourly.
And so I’m doing an entire embroidery project with an inappropriate needle because I know I own six hundred needles but I’m fucked if I know where a single one is besides this totally inappropriate one that’s not just the wrong size, the eye’s the wrong size, and also it’s bent now.
