I am not the neatest person in the world. But I do have at least some sense of organization, and when I am by myself, I do tend to keep things up in a fairly reasonable manner.
But I haven't been by myself for the last 12 years, and well, it's reached epic proportions.
There's a lot that goes into it. Many years of depression, possibly some other undiagnosed mental conditions, but the end result is... well, it's unliveable. It's unhealthy. It's probably bordering on criminal.
The last straw was finding out that Sadie now has fleas.
This is my dog. She depends on me, I am her absentee doggy daddy, and while I have been gone, she has become a repository for bugs that eat her flesh.
I am horrified. I am livid. I am really pissed off. It's taken me a couple of days before I can even mention it, I'm so pissed.
So this week, the bedroom needs to be expunged. Everything that's in it needs to come out and be washed, vaccuumed, or cleaned in whatever manner is appropriate. And a lot of the stuff in there is Barb's. Mostly clothes.
I have warned her that she should take whatever steps that she deems necessary this coming weekend to sort out what she needs from her piles because during the week, stuff is going to get washed and put into bins and stored.
Sadie is getting bathed and everyone is getting flea collars, and the general furniture areas are getting vaccuumed after Barb brings back the vaccuum cleaner.
You know, I've been willing to put up with a lot for a very long time. But when you hurt my pets, your time is up.
I also am having to face a whole lot of guilt over not fixing this before it got so out of hand. There is so much that I could have done. Should have done.
Coulda, woulda, shoulda. Can't go back, can only go forward.
[major-league snarky comment deleted]
I think I am going to have a difficult time being civil this coming week.