I HAVE MADE MY BED. \o/
People who know me know that I am... sporadically, aggressively tidy? Meaning that while deep down in my compulsive soul (thanks, Mum), I want things to be tidy - I NEED things to be tidy - I am also half Artist (genetically, on Dad's side, and feel free to apply all hilarious, sarcastic intonations that come with that term), which means that often that compulsiveness is turned to something that overrides the Tidy.
When I have nothing else vying for my attention, or perhaps more commonly, when there is something else I should be doing but I really, really don't want to do it, everything is clean. It is tidy. It is organized. You can find things and the dining room table is clear and there are enough forks in the drawer because they are not all in the sink or the dishwasher. Importantly, my bed is made. This last point is a crucial hallmark of my state of mental health. If the bed is made, I am awake and (probably) dressed and functioning and being an adult and Getting Things Done. The day has officially begun and I am out in it.
When there is something else going on that I have to do, and have to do now, seriously, the Tidy is overriden by the compulsive need to Do This Thing Right. So the floor doesn't get vaccuumed, the dishwasher is full of clean dishes and the sink is full of dirty dishes waiting to be put in the dishwasher, my laundry is making a bid for freedom from the closet and the bed? The bed is not made. Probably because I was awake all night and had fifteen minutes to jump out of bed, dress, brush teeth, and dash for the train to get to class or work on time, or because I have still not gone to bed because I am still up working on something that oh god I really just want to finish.
On Friday evening, I had some school people over for dinner. I made Mindy's fabulous tofu butter chicken and it was delicious and we had lovely wine and we spent twice as long as we spent eating just sitting around talking about things. Like adults. (Okay, like adults who spent a solid hour talking about knitting and Joseph Gordon Levitt's shirtsleeves and British Actor Bingo, otherwise known as Midsomer Murders.). It was awesome.
As the semester is (thank the universe) nearly over, on Friday I had two small assignments and one major project left to finish. I got one of them done that evening, leaving the major project to finish tweaking and hand in - namely, a massive Drupal website remake for a local park. It is very complicated. It had approximately 1,567 things that needed to all work together.
On Friday, the apartment was clean. My bed was made. Things were good.
My bed has not been made since Friday, until just now when I finished my project and handed it in and did a little dance. I feel enormously victorious, as I have only one more teensy assignment left to finish and then exams and then this awful, abominable semester is over forever. In a grander sense, I feel like my bed has not been made since early September.
One more assignment to go. I am so close to being properly finished that I can taste it.
And when I am done, I think I will reward myself with writing fic. And possibly vaccuuming my room.
ETA: DAMN IT NOW I AM DOWNLOADING HAWAII FIVE-O. I blame maelie, sheafrotherdon, and dogeared. ON YOUR HEADS BE IT.
When I have nothing else vying for my attention, or perhaps more commonly, when there is something else I should be doing but I really, really don't want to do it, everything is clean. It is tidy. It is organized. You can find things and the dining room table is clear and there are enough forks in the drawer because they are not all in the sink or the dishwasher. Importantly, my bed is made. This last point is a crucial hallmark of my state of mental health. If the bed is made, I am awake and (probably) dressed and functioning and being an adult and Getting Things Done. The day has officially begun and I am out in it.
When there is something else going on that I have to do, and have to do now, seriously, the Tidy is overriden by the compulsive need to Do This Thing Right. So the floor doesn't get vaccuumed, the dishwasher is full of clean dishes and the sink is full of dirty dishes waiting to be put in the dishwasher, my laundry is making a bid for freedom from the closet and the bed? The bed is not made. Probably because I was awake all night and had fifteen minutes to jump out of bed, dress, brush teeth, and dash for the train to get to class or work on time, or because I have still not gone to bed because I am still up working on something that oh god I really just want to finish.
On Friday evening, I had some school people over for dinner. I made Mindy's fabulous tofu butter chicken and it was delicious and we had lovely wine and we spent twice as long as we spent eating just sitting around talking about things. Like adults. (Okay, like adults who spent a solid hour talking about knitting and Joseph Gordon Levitt's shirtsleeves and British Actor Bingo, otherwise known as Midsomer Murders.). It was awesome.
As the semester is (thank the universe) nearly over, on Friday I had two small assignments and one major project left to finish. I got one of them done that evening, leaving the major project to finish tweaking and hand in - namely, a massive Drupal website remake for a local park. It is very complicated. It had approximately 1,567 things that needed to all work together.
On Friday, the apartment was clean. My bed was made. Things were good.
My bed has not been made since Friday, until just now when I finished my project and handed it in and did a little dance. I feel enormously victorious, as I have only one more teensy assignment left to finish and then exams and then this awful, abominable semester is over forever. In a grander sense, I feel like my bed has not been made since early September.
One more assignment to go. I am so close to being properly finished that I can taste it.
And when I am done, I think I will reward myself with writing fic. And possibly vaccuuming my room.
ETA: DAMN IT NOW I AM DOWNLOADING HAWAII FIVE-O. I blame maelie, sheafrotherdon, and dogeared. ON YOUR HEADS BE IT.