I need a sign that reads "Martha Stewart Does Not Live Here". I have many friends who are also what I would call "anti-Marthas", several of them are my fellow BLN bloggers - I'm not naming any names.
My mother is not Martha, but she's pretty close. In a conversation with her recently, she said that I was immature for not having the oversized closet that my son and I share perfectly neat and organized. My priorities are apparently different than hers. I'd rather spend more time with my son, and my friends (both in person, and online) than alone in my room trying to make the impossible happen. I hate, hate, hate folding clothes. I do it at work, and loathe the idea of doing it at home. My dresser does not have an adequate amount of space for the clothing that I have. I also am lacking space for all of my books. The majority of them, sadly, are in boxes in my aunt's basement.
There was originally the deal that if I kept my room clean and organized, my parents would allow Connor and I to have the master bedroom (theirs) instead, giving me a little more space to function. At this point, Connor's dresser is downstairs in the living room. This task has been impossible, so we remain crowded into a tiny space.
I am semi-embarrassed about the state of disorganization that my room has fallen into, but I lack the ambition to fix it - a FLYlady I am NOT. I can decorate, I can organize, but I can't maintain. I feel better to know that I'm not alone, but I feel that in some ways I'm failing as an adult.