I am having a terrible case of the "I don't want tos". I don't want to work, I don't want to keep house, I don't want to cook. I don't want to............
I'd like to go out on the town and have some fun but I don't want to fish through my closet for clothes that don't fit so I won't look nice. I don't want to buy new clothes because it's my own fault that they're too tight because I had a month of madness where all I wanted to eat was cheese and ice cream and drink beer. And then I didn't want to work out to get smaller again.
I wouldn't go as far as to say I'm sloppy at home but I'm not fond of dusting furniture or sweeping floors. Usually I'll have to get bitten by a rouge dust bunny before I'll notice that I need to clean a little. My cats will chase the little buggers around which embarrasses me a little. I have one of those vacuum cleaners that has the clear dust bin and it's scary how quickly that sucker will fill up with junk.
Mr. Wonderful has a thing about trash cans that have trash in them. He doesn't like them. I on the other hand, do not notice until they're starting to spill over. Luckily, my youngest kidlet is in charge of emptying them, so they don't usually get to that point.
I don't like to file paperwork either. I have papers in neat little piles and once in a blue moon I'll have to file them or else there will be an avalanche. I don't know why I don't just go ahead and file them when I'm through reading them, but I don't. My brother's wife has this same affliction and one time he decided to play a trick on her. They had a party and he asked everyone attending to save up their junk mail for a month or so. Then, the night of the party, he had everyone bring what they had saved up. Every one's piles got stacked throughout the house and we all waited to see how long it would take my sis-in-law to notice. The night was practically over with before she realized that there was junk mail everywhere! It would be the same situation if that had happened at my house.
I can live with the chaos for a good while until suddenly, I'll go into a rage and start tossing stuff and cleaning like my life depended on it. Usually I'll get about 1/2 way finished before I get distracted and move on to something else. Thank gosh for my ADD! Otherwise, I'd have a house that was so clean, it'd feel like a museum and no one would feel comfortable in it. I can't have that happening.
Maybe I should just start wearing ankle guards to ward off the biting dust bunnies, get a St. Bernard in case there's an avalanche and just deal with it.