I loved cleaning my room when I was a kid. On the other hand, I couldn't abide the regular "maintenance" cleaning that my mother forced me to do. Vaccuuming other parts of the house was my chore, my enemy, my foe. But, about every four-six weeks, my room would need a good thorough, all-day, marathon clean-out and that I was always up for. I loved sorting through my stuff, like an archeologist sifting through recent history. Dirty dishes, piles of clean and not-so-clean clothes, school work, sports equipment, musical instruments, music in the form of vinyl LPs and cassettes, sheet music, newspapers, scrapbooks. I loved sorting everything out, organizing, putting things neatly away, cleaning up the messes and making my room "new" again. It was very satisfying and I always felt that I had accomplished something at the end of it. Music would be blasting at top volume all day … and I would actually voluntarily vaccuum my own room.

Even now, I can live with quite the astonishing degree of disarray until I reach some not-quite-definable threshold which signals a "project" type of clean-out. Usually, things get quite out of hand when I'm involved with some kind of project or external focus that is taking my attention away from straightening up and organizing on a regular basis.  At some point, though, I have a breaking point where everything must stop and I must have a sort out, clean up, get organized kind of day.

I'm just not good at routine or maintenance style work.  Sweeping the floor every day before I leave just because it is a good idea – well, that is just not going to happen. Anything that I can visualize as a project works for me – elements that I can organize and plan for … sequences, priorities, dependencies. Sorting and putting away before dusting. Dusting before vaccuuming (which I still hate) … sheets get washed before bed-making. And I'm really happy if it can all happen as part of the same "event", on the same day.

I had a new friend over for dinner the other night and she commented that my place was very neat and tidy and wondered if I was a neat freak. I was taken aback by this as I live my life in a pretty slovenly, bachelor like manner until that afore-mentioned threshold is reached. And, of course, I cleaned and neatened significantly before she arrived for dinner. One does not attempt to impress with dirty dishes on the counter and doggie paw prints on the floor.

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