Disorganised Chaos

There’s a magnet on our fridge, probably buried under the numerous unused 50p off hair dye coupons that have been collected there since the dawn of time and just next to a note with the number for the boiler repair service from British Gas. On this particular magnet is written the phrase:

Our house was clean last week. Sorry you missed it.

Last week? We could legitimately get a new magnet that says our house was tidy YESTERDAY and that we are terribly sorry you’ve missed it.

What I don’t understand is that I am the only one here during the day. I don’t generally make that much mess. But there are things everywhere. And by everywhere I mean everywhere except where there should actually be things. Things keep appearing in places and then they just stay. They never seem to disappear. And then stuff appears around the things, and it all becomes part of the tapestry of the house. And then before you know it you have what we have now. And when I say “before you know it” I mean 24 hours later.

That’s not to say the house is untidy. Or even dirty.

It’s not. It’s clean. And the stuff that is dotted around is tidy. It’s just that the stuff is dotted around. It’s not in the place it should be. But no-one knows why. We can’t understand why some of the stuff is where it is or why it can’t go back where it should be because some other stuff is where that should be. Nature abhors a vacuum and stuff doesn’t like space in our house at the moment.

I blame the decorating. The most peaceful and tranquil room in the whole house is the back bedroom which, once the curtains arrived and – sadly – robbed us of the opportunity to get them free today is now complete. It’s lovely in there. Everything has its place. Nothing has spread into their polluting it with its general stuff-ness. Except for the stepladder. But I am going to hurl that into the shed with blistering force tomorrow.

It’s just everywhere else. All over the place.

I’m writing this on a table positioned between two clothes horses. Like I’m in a towel cave. It’s not right.

If I could catch the person who’s doing all this – presumably the same person who uses about 80 teaspoons in the course of a day – there’ll be trouble…