I'm not the world's neatest person. In fact, I'm a bit of a slob. I used to think this was a very common trait among people my own age. I guess I've always thought that most people my age are generally unconcerned with tidiness. I've since revised my opinion. Not only are most people here pretty darn neat, they can also be pretty darn rude to those of us who aren't.
When I applied for first-year housing, I happily checked the "no" box next to the more neat then messy question. My parents objected, saying that I could get a total slob for a roommate. I said I certainly hoped so. What I got was Jenn, a wonderful roommate just about as messy as I was. We rarely saw our carpeting because it was always buried under newspapers, clothes and books. We cleaned, oh, once a month, and vacuumed even less frequently.
Visitors would always remark about how messy our room was, and we never fully understood why. One of our male hallmates made particularly obnoxious comments, saying that our room was a disgrace. It pissed the hell out of us. Disgrace to whom? We were obviously content, and our room wasn't a fire hazard or otherwise a threat to the rest of the hall, so why was it any of his business?
We began to think that somehow our messiness upset his sense of universal order or that maybe he had nothing better to do then criticize other people for silly reasons. So we wouldn't let him come over anymore.
Now, I live in a nice-sized single. And, of course, it is messy. I think my 'shmen have been the most understanding, probably since most of them (well, six out of 10) are pretty messy too. However, others aren't so kind. I get some pretty obnoxious comments. Mostly, I ignore them. And I continue to wonder why people CARE so much. Gosh, if I had a dollar for every comment someone made about my room's messiness, it would pay for my books this term. Hmm, maybe I should start charging people.
Why do people think that messiness is some kind of character defect? People say things that imply that the dirty clothes strewn on the floor somehow make me less of a person or something like that. They seem to think that because my research is strewn in scattered piles instead of nice straight stacks, I won't get a good grade on the paper.
I think people have a tendency to confuse messiness with disorganization. I consider myself to be a very organized person. I know where everything is. Yes, the measuring cup is next to my answering machine, the packing tape is in the sweater box and a lot of stuff is just plain under my bed, but I know where it is. If you ask me to find something, I can. Yes, I do misplace my keys sometimes, but no more often than the average person. Oh, and by the way, I have nothing against disorganization either. It just doesn't apply to me.
And when people ask me if I'm planning on cleaning my room, I usually tell them to read the sign above my desk: Geniuses thrive on clutter. I've had it since 7th grade, when I first hung it in my locker. The nuns did locker-checks, and it would be me and about 10 boys that would get busted and have to stay after school and clean them. I've always been messy, and I always will be.
When I was at home for break, my dad kept saying how he'd forgotten how messy I was. Only a few hours after my flight landed, there were newspapers, juggling balls and my dinner dishes scattered in the family room. I told him to go look at his den. It's about as messy as my dorm room. I said dad, this is definitely hereditary. He agreed.
So please, don't tell me to clean my room. I might have some nasty retort. And I assure each and every one of you neat people out there that the world won't come to a catastrophic end if your floor isn't clean enough to use as a plate. Trust me on this one.
