Bless This Mess With My Best
Watching the Disney Channel on mute; lighting a floor that's in serious, serious need of cleaning. My rug's very heavy with things that more that likely should rest of shelves or hanging up in closets. I know this -- they scream to me loudly, "Sean, I've been here for weeks, and I'm tired of being trampled." But, I ignore them -- these clothes; video game controllers (ranging for PS2 to N64); empty water bottles; empty cardboard box from Dell; dog hair locked in boring battles with my rug, in the midst of the take over. My floor is crowed. My floor has taken on the role of the largest shelving unit in my household. It complains without saying a word -- it guilts me into looking at it. Maybe I'll clean it up two hours ago; it would surely be done by now. But, no, cleaning my room I will leave for another day -- I'll leave this job for a more ambitious version of Sean Dwyer -- one I'll certainly admire more than the one that sits in front of his newly arrived computer monitor, typing the words will put off another opportunity to better his current surroundings ... And, another. And, another. And, another.
It's not that I don't want to have a clean room. I do. I think everyone else would rather I did. It's more along the lines of a person who simply just doesn't care anymore. I just don't see a point at the moment. I have full faith this will change over the next couple of days -- but, for now, I'm actually impressed with myself and my devil-may-care attitude I've so cooly adopted. I think it's actually something more to the point where I've started to accept the fact that I am a little bit of a slob, without the burden of feeling the need to be embarrassed of it, or hide it from people.
Sean's so apathetic it hurts in places that only normally hurt when he jogs.
More on this story as it develops . . .
It's not that I don't want to have a clean room. I do. I think everyone else would rather I did. It's more along the lines of a person who simply just doesn't care anymore. I just don't see a point at the moment. I have full faith this will change over the next couple of days -- but, for now, I'm actually impressed with myself and my devil-may-care attitude I've so cooly adopted. I think it's actually something more to the point where I've started to accept the fact that I am a little bit of a slob, without the burden of feeling the need to be embarrassed of it, or hide it from people.
Sean's so apathetic it hurts in places that only normally hurt when he jogs.
More on this story as it develops . . .