This is a mess, part ii
Yes, I know I linked this clip a couple weeks ago. But seriously, I can’t watch this video enough. Any time I’m feeling low, I think to myself: At least I can put a burger in my mouth. Ok, so I don’t eat meat. I’ll rephrase: At least I can put a veggie burger in my mouth.
Much like David Hasselhoff, I am a mess. Not in the “I’m so drunk I can’t put food into my mouth” kind of way, but literally: I am a mess. I am messy. My desk has enough space for my laptop to sit flat, but otherwise, I’ve got stacks of papers–manuscripts, my own and others’, half-opened bills, half-filled out contracts, old insurance cards, random sheets of paper, who knows what’s important and what isn’t –books I’m half done reading, at least eight notebooks of various shades and sizes, and pens, blue Bics, like a dozen of them, rubber bands and barrettes.
Unlike my desk, my writing is orderly. Even though I have more than a handful of notebooks going at once, they’re organized. I date everything. I’m obsessive about my notebooks. I write in the same color ink. I practically have a nervous breakdown if anyone else writes in them. (I have this thing about uniform handwriting.) My writing itself is compact and ordered. I have rituals. I write in the mornings, strictly. I write by hand, then I go to computer.
I wouldn’t call it a balancing act, more maybe just that as a kid, my parents didn’t stress cleanliness. They only focused on “work” which in my case meant school. I never learned how to clean, or any other useful qualities like laundry or cooking. Whereas I’ve taught myself how to cook and do laundry, I can’t seem to keep my workspace clean. Back when I had an office, I used to be embarrassed when students or colleagues came in. My office was a wreck. Nor did I have any desire to clean it, the social shame was hardly adequate reason.
I’m trying to rectify my obsessive desire for order in one world (writing) with my compulsive desire of destruction in another (my writing space), while recognizing these two worlds are actually the same one. I don’t know. What is going on with me?