I don’t consider myself a neat freak technically. I have some OCD qualities in my personality, but I think being “clean” is just in me. I was brought up to be clean and lived in an orderly home. My mother would ensure we made our beds and I started earning my allowance around nine by doing chores and my own laundry. Warm warm white, cold cold colors.
I’ve never been able to understand how some people can just walk by a mess and not see it. They literally don’t see it. I’m not sure what they see, but it isn’t the half eaten container of McDonald’s French fries, the Pepsi cup, or the hamburger wrapper. I see a mess that needs, demands actually, to be cleaned up. Some people will just see the table for days.
My life is a constant pausing of time and whatever I was doing to bend over and pickup some item on the floor. It might be a lego piece, a jacket or shoe that is “NOT MINE! IT IS HERS!” from my little girls, or maybe even a small piece of plastic from a fruit cup that the vacuum cleaner won’t pickup.
Those are all possible reasons why my back hurts today.