rebirths

Compared 2 photos of my living room. One was taken before I moved out, and the second was taken around 2 weeks after I moved into my new place... and it's disturbing. Either I have an extraordinarily high tolerance for mess, or I'm schizoid.

Seriously.


In NSP, the percentage of visible floor was in single digits. There were newspapers, magazines, books, sand, CDs, officially banned plastic, stationery, footwear, beer cans, ash, clothes, bottles, cartons, the hookah, bills, and god knows what else everywhere. The other room was so messy it was unlivable, we just used it to dump the less usable mess. The kitchen sink had it's own ecosystem. The loo floor had newspapers permanently rotted onto the tiles. There were bags, boxes, and packets everywhere. The balcony door wouldn't open behind the weight of the junk piled up behind it. Must have sold off over 20 kilos of scrap when we moved.

And in AA - even one newspaper lying waving in the breeze causes spiritual torment. The floor has nothing except the mattresses. The books and CDs are arranged by size. The bottles are lined up in the kitchen and the packets are in a closed carton in a corner. Sheets are washed, floor swept. Everyday, rubbish is thrown out.

It's creepy.

I feel like an ex-concentration camp director, a Nazi now teaching elementary English to children in a village in Peru.
Life does more than just change; every move is a rebirth.
There are, of course, repeating patterns - once messy, always messy - but I guess the sheer effort that's being made to stay clean means that deep down, I'd rather not live in a sty.
Let's see... another month should tell.

Watch this space.