Growing up, my neat freak sister would almost never come in my room. It was a mess. Organized but a mess. There was almost no floor space, getting in and out required manhandling the door, and i couldn't keep it clean for more than a week. It got worse when i got to my teenager years, where there were piles everywhere and still no floor.
Now I'm suddenly in my first apartment, adjusting well with a great roommate and her attention whore cat...and suddenly i can't stand mess at all.
Having everything in the boxes was driving me nuts because i couldn't find anything. So for the first time in my life....I'm folding clothes and putting them away when they come out of the laundry, there is such a thing as a hanger and there are several of them used in my closet. (this is talking foreign territory here :P)
All the random papers and miscellaneous art supplies and stuff are organized and have a place. There is nothing under my bed....
and the weirdest thing is i like it and want to maintain it.
I feel like I'm not myself.
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