Confessions of a Messy Person

Photo by Ella Jardim on Unsplash


A couple of weeks ago, I walked into my room and made a startling discovery. Beneath layers of clothing and various items strewn throughout my room, I observed something peeking through: the floor. I forgot I had one.


In my defense, I really only spend enough time in my room to make it messy and leave it like that. Sometimes, I justify my slovenly ways by thinking of all the things more worthwhile to do than cleaning my room.


Just think of the time spent doing laundry. I hate folding laundry. I hate math, too—almost as much as laundry—but I decided to calculate approximately how much time I will spend in my life cleaning and folding my clothes. If I’m still kicking at age 75, and I’m doing my own laundry, I will have spent around 70 days of my life doing laundry—70 days! That’s also assuming I’m only doing my own laundry. More than likely, I’ll have several times that if I get married and have kids.


Unfortunately, short of using a professional cleaning service or living like an animal, there’s no way around losing that precious time. Doing laundry is one of those necessary evils, and there’s no reasonable way around it. As much of a grievance I have against doing laundry, I accept that it’s a part of life. 


However, that doesn’t mean that I can’t have a chair in my room that is perpetually covered with “in-between” clothes. You could say it’s may own way of sticking it to the washing machine. Maybe it’s still messy, but it’s a step above the floor, and I’m okay with that.


What I do need to work on more is the sheer amount of junk I have stowed away in drawers, boxes, and shelves. I recently started this journey, and I have to say it has been a liberating experience, even though there was an initial hurdle to overcome.


There are a lot of things that get worse before they get better—kind of like quitting smoking, or season two of Riverdale, to name a few random, but nonetheless valid examples. As it turns out, there is also quite the mountain to ascend when purging your room of those unnecessary, where-did-this-even-come-from objects. I soldiered on, though, and I made quite a bit of progress.


Three hours, two bags of Goodwill-bound clothes, and one bag of junk later, I have to admit, it felt a lot better. I don’t think I’ll ever be a true minimalist, though. It’s just not in my nature. However, I know I could stand to declutter a little.


Don’t abandon doing laundry, and please, clean your room every once in a while, you filthy animal. Maybe get rid of a few things you don’t need, too. I don’t encourage total eclipse of your floor via dirty clothes. It’s not a good look. But remember that it’s not the end of the world if you struggle with keeping things perfectly tidy.