Feel free to skip over this post, as it will mostly be me whining about the wretched weekend I just had. (So, really, you’re not missing much.)
I’d like to start by saying I’m not exactly a clean person. I’d like to say that I’m just cluttered, just actually like, a filthy slob, but honestly I spend much of my time avoiding dishes and taking out the trash, and I have on occasion tripped over pizza boxes because I was too lazy to bring them to the kitchen, never mind actually put them in the trash. On top of this, I am a cluttered person–I accumulate and horde paper like Smaug hordes gold. I have stacks of books and movies and video games everywhere. Things are dusty, because I never dust. I have about 8 unpacked boxes of junk (and I use “junk” because I don’t even know what’s in the boxes) in my living room alone, never mind the boxes of storage I have just left about willy-nilly in my bedroom.
So yeah, here’s basically where I’m starting from.