Confessions of a Pack-Rat Gone "Clean"

In certain areas of my life, I am a bit of a slob. I can't, for the life of me, keep my closet clean. My office usually looks a bit like a tornado hit it, and we aren't in Kansas anymore, Toto. My husband, on the other hand, is a neat person. Every night before bed he usually putters around the kitchen, cleaning, loading the dishwasher, making sure the mess I made while cooking is taken care of. He does one load of laundry when his laundry basket gets full, whereas I pile the clothes on top of the wicker basket in my closet till they are overflowing, then leave things that can't be dried in the dryer hanging around the house for days. When I write, I put piles of paper everywhere; articles that I plan to quote from pile up, the edits of whatever chapter I'm working on lie partially in use, partially discarded on the floor. And even when I'm done with them I usually leave them there till some day when I get an urge to have a clean workspace (usually followed by grumbling from the spouse) and throw everything away, amazed that here is that article from last Fall I used to teach that class on introductory paragraphs, and here is the essay by that student two semesters ago.....

So, in the light that I do love my hubby and would like to NOT drive him crazy, I've been trying very hard to be better about this kind of thing. To be aware of my space more, less like a "distracted absent-minded professor" who is so focused on ideas that s/he wanders around like Einstein losing his train ticket*. I'm trying to be a more gracious guest in the world, trying to not take up more space that I deserve and intrude upon others' space. So I've cleaned my office, donated four bags of clothes I never wear but was pack-ratting away in the closet (in case someday I wanted to wear a size 14 wool green jacket or the skirt someone gave me and I never once wore and wasn't my style but still was kind of cute.....)

And I have to admit, while I sit here in my nice and clean office with my Virgin of Guadalupe rose candle (second from left) burning away for inspiration (and to mask smelly cat activities) I like it. I like feeling sort of clean. I like my closet being laid out like a buffet of cute tops and pants, easy to locate and decide what to wear today. I like it that my new car (complete with new car smell!) has no discarded piles of books or old empty water bottles and Starbuck's cups under the seat.

So, is this a new leaf turned over or a temporary ripple where the leaf will go right back where it was before? We'll see. Time will tell. I hope I can do both be the distracted literary professor AND the neat, pleasant to be around companion. Is there a patron saint for messy people? I'll bet there is. St Anne is the patron saint of Housekeepers. So I guess she works; combine her with St. Jude, patron saint of impossible situations and I'm halfway there. Then, just to keep it in perspective, a prayer to St. Teresa of Avila, patron saint of writers. Since I'm trying, after all, to write, and that's why it's so messy; perhaps if she lends a little help I can finish the writing & have more time for cleaning. Since I'm not Catholic, and not really even very traditionally Christian, I'll appeal to these saints from a hippie neo pagan sort of recognition that any local deity can help out a bit, if you ask with reverence & respect, and say thank you. So. Thus far, I'm asking for help from: several Catholic Saints, a voodoo loa, a Buddhist goddess. With all that clout on my side, surely I'll get it right eventually.


*this is based on an old story that a train conductor once spotted Einstein on a train, and while the famous physicist was patting his pockets frantically for a ticket, the conductor said "oh, that's okay, Professor, I know you bought a ticket" and Einstein replied "no, I have to find the ticket, otherwise, I don't know where I'm going".