Titling this post was challenging, because this topic makes me vacillate between wanting to laugh, wanting to cry, wanting to scream, and wanting to walk away (far far away) while shrugging my shoulders. In that vein, please excuse all the run-on sentences and bad grammar that accompany the following rant.
I am an untidy person...make that a very untidy person. I'm big on piles of stuff just about everywhere, because I'm a visual person. If I put something out of sight, it is out of mind until it's in sight again...so I just don't put things away until I'm totally done with them, and I never seem to get around to being totally done with them. I know this is hideous and I'm setting a bad example for my children, yadda yadda yadda, and I'm well aware of all of that...but it seems to be my nature. Untidy just doesn't bother me until it gets really bad, at which point I usually freak out and cry and rail against the fact that I don't have enough time to organize and clean it properly (hours, since it's gotten that bad)...and then maybe I'll tidy one small portion before hiding it all behind some door. The study has been that door. Since it's gotten too cold in the extension to spend any real time there this winter (it's about 57 degrees F in there most days), I tend to dump stuff there and shut the door. Not smart. The hideousness of that room has been preying on my mind for a while now, and I've conveniently ignored it. Though untidy, I am not unclean. I cannot abide funk. The study had papers and whatnot strewn all over the floor and every other surface, but there was no old food in there or anything nasty. Just mess. Nonetheless, it was time to clean. When Markus packed the girls off to the playground last night, I rolled up my sleeves and marched in there, determined.
While we were in Sydney last week enjoying glorious sunshine and heavenly temperatures, the winter weather gods were having their way with Perth. Apparently, there was a whole lotta rain happening. It was sunny when we returned, so we were happy. This week has been busy and not a little manic, so I hadn't gone in the study all week until last night. It seems I was about two weeks too late with my determination to clean up. Somehow, the study (thankfully, only the study) flooded while we were gone. The carpet is damp, which means almost everything on the floor (including various important documents I had sorted into subject piles but not filed) was damp and--you guessed it--starting to become moldy. And the kicker? There are mushrooms growing from the baseboards. MUSHROOMS. Inside my house.
I am a displaced American Katrina person. I know all about flooded spaces, but mushrooms sprouting from the wall in a week's time? I had never heard of that. I am repulsed. I am appalled! I am furious with myself for making it all so much worse for us to clean up because we actually need to keep most of those damp, slightly moldy papers. ARGH!!
Untidy I may be, but unclean I ain't...and mushrooms from the baseboards? That's seriously unclean. This is war. War on my clutter-ous, untidy ways has been declared. I didn't cause the flood or the mushrooms, but they will spur me on to better habits. Never again!