Look, I know my room is a mess, but it’s my mess. And you do not touch my mess, so help you you do not touch my mess. Not even my mother is allowed to touch my mess. Twenty-some years later and she still complains that my room is never clean. Mostly because it’s a sea of clothes. Most of them are clean, yeah. Between work and school, you want me to fold the jeans I only get to wear like twice a week if I’m lucky? Yeah, I’m going to nap instead, and we both know that.
It’s all perfectly in place, and if you even shift a single post it note, I will be at a loss for days trying to find where you put it. Because those post it notes are important! They could have a story idea. Or a home work assignment that I’ll probably do. Or the release date for the new Dragon Age game or-
Okay, maybe not that one. That was coordinates to a quest item that I really needed to find. Took way longer than it should have. Freakin’ campers. Anyway, the point remains, do not touch the mess. I like to think that, you know, busy room, busy mind.
There’s one place though. One little corner of my room that’s neat. And that’s my desk. Look, I even use coasters for my soda cans. I mean, there are a few bottles of nail polish scattered on it, and the makeup I keep saying I’m going to wake up early enough to do. But other than that, it’s clean. Bulletin board decked out in Hogwarts colors, a dry erase board calendar. Everything is perfectly organized; barely even a pen out of place.
I tell myself that it’s so I can stay focused. Organized desk means an organized worker. Deadlines met, schedules made…But my x-box is also on my desk. And so are little action figures that are DC super heroes.. Did I mention the bulletin board is Harry Potter themed?