Ok, I"m living in this room, which is made tiny by my floor to rafters boxes, my piles of stuff that don't fit in boxes, my little stashes of stuff under anything that has room under. Of course, I've got a clue. But its temporary right? Until thngs improve.
Out of the mouth of babes, in this case the 8 year old daughter of my landlord who made periodic observations. "Wow! You have too much stuff! Why don't you get rid of some of it." "Why do you keep all that stuff?" "Your room is a real mess." An 8 year old tells it like they see it.
She finally stopped, getting tired of being shushed by her elders. Once in awhile, the landlord makes a reference to the level of chaos in here, but they are amazingly tolerant.
What really got to me was the reaction of my younger son, who lives hours away and who hadn't seen the room I live in since I always went to his place to visit. Of course I went there, he can't get IN here! But he finally made the trip down to see his mother, and after stepping inside the door to my room, he gasped. "Wow Mom! This is INTENSE!" Then he backed out and a conversation from all the observers of my life began. Mortification supremo!
I've got to get a handle on this. I want people to be able to visit me here. I've got to take care of this.
That was six months ago. Nothing changed. sigh...
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