a messy reflection

I try to keep my room clean, I really do. But somehow, it gets messy so fast. It seems like what takes an hour to clean up takes only five minutes to undo. It's kind of ridiculous. When I was talking about this predicament with a friend, he told me that if it takes two minutes or less to put away, then I should take the quick two minutes or less to do so. However (and we always have excuses, right?) I find that sometimes I don't have two minutes to put my clothes back on the hanger, like when I'm rushing back to work or hurrying through my room to find a sweatshirt before taking the kids off-campus. So. In a fraction of the time it took to make my room a warm and welcoming place for me, it already looks like a tornado has cut through and strewn pants, shirts, jackets, and shoes everywhere inconvenient.

I get annoyed with my inability to keep a clean room. Well, I guess I'm able...but perhaps not willing? This sounds like too much talk about a silly little issue, but as I ponder the complexities of life and think back to my days as a psychology student, I wonder if maybe the state of my room reflects the chaos inside my head...and also the craziness of my job. It's funny that I am more than capable of taking care of ten children (with the help of co-workers, of course)...making sure they're fed, that they have clean laundry, that they've gotten all the appropriate medication, that they aren't assaulting any of the other children, but then somehow I am slightly neglectful when it comes to taking care of myself.

At work, my mind is constantly on overdrive. I'm always multi-tasking and some child is always in need of something. When I go back to my room after ten to fifteen hours of work, the last thing I want to do is clean up. Instead, I throw on some comfortable lounging clothes and lay down on my futon to watch television for an hour or two before realizing that sleep is probably important if I'm going to be a productive houseparent tomorrow. My room is a visible picture of what I feel my brain looks like...all jumbled, with thoughts and emotions scattered all over the place, a mess intimidating because it appears too big to sort out and organize.

I hate having a chaotic room, almost as much as I hate having a chaotic mind.


I leave you with some good memories I have of my girls...