Having company over is really nice. It's great to see friends from out of town, and it's cool to know I'm saving them money by letting them crash on my pullout couch, so it works out well on the rare occasions someone comes to visit. A couple friends are staying at my place this week, and the company has been really awesome, but the clothes, hiking gear, and camping equipment that came along with them makes it look like an REI exploded in my front room. Sleeping bags, puffy jackets, boots, and other miscellaneous stuff is scattered on the floor along with my backpack, Camelbak, running shoes, and other crap. It's fine that there's clutter; it happens with company. It's funny to me, though, that usually my living space is so neat and clean despite being a slob not that long ago.
I was never one for organization as a kid. There would be a trail of stuff, like clothes, toys, food, trash, and so on that lead to me. It carried on into adulthood, where thoughts of Eh, I'll vacuum later and The dishes can wait another, like, couple weeks, right? would come to mind, and I didn't really mind the grossness and the clutter I lived in. After all, I live alone, why should I care who sees my filthy existence? I rolled with sleeping on the sofa in the front room, eating chips off my chest, throwing trash wherever, and essentially living like a complete blob of a slob.
One day, though, I woke up, looked at the sorry shape my apartment was in, and decided to clean. I didn't care if anyone else had to see the mess or if anyone would see it clean. I had to live in it, and that was enough for me to get motivated enough to dredge out the old greasy pizza boxes and empty cans from the apartment, put the clothes away, and sweep up. I've done my best to maintain a comfortable and clean space ever since, not only for guests, but for me too. So far I've done pretty well to keep it nice, and I'm pretty happy about it.
At least having company over is a good excuse to let the place get messy for awhile. It lets me be lazy for a few days.
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