My mom is desperate to help me with this move. I kept telling her I had it under control, which was a total lie, of course. But if it was out of control, it was my fault, and I guess I felt that I should not be helped out of it because I suck and procrastinate and am lazy. You know? I should pay the price for my sins. But I’ve decided, just now, that if she is free tomorrow, she can help me pack the kitchen. Aren’t I sweet? Part of the reason that I didn’t want her to help is she gets sad when she sees my place a mess. And the apartment is currently unclean. But on the phone this morning she told me she decided that that was her own issue that she was projecting onto me. And I told her that I could have told her that, I knew it all along. But that doesn’t make up for the fact that it makes her sad. Who wants to make their mommy sad? The other reason is based on a story she tells about me as a kid. Apparently, I would somehow talk my friends into doing my chores. I would be cleaning my room and someone would come by to see if I could play, and my mom would tell them that I couldn’t play until my room was clean. Naturally, I was not exactly rushing around cleaning. I was probably lying on the floor, looking for pictures in the patterns on the ceiling. Like I do now. Or playing with my toys. Like I do now. So my little friend would ask if they could help, my mom would peek in later to find me lollygagging about, while they cleaned. Now, I don’t remember doing this. But, it doesn’t surprise me. It’s not an aspect of my personality I should be proud of, and I’m not. Exactly. But… I admit… Look, I can’t help it if I was in high demand as a playmate. And that I had better things to do than clean my room. My head was, and still is, full of many things that take precedent over the more mundane aspects of life.
So part of me feels that this apartment is not completely empty and clean because I am waiting for that little friend to come over and do my chores. Shame on me. 😛