This idea shamelessly stolen from missrachael: Your life, uncen

[kellinator]

"Do you ever feel like everyone else is much better than you are at the business of everyday life - that other people don't have to brush cat litter off their feet before they get into bed, and other people's children don't have dressers with one drawer that won't open (because their mothers were smart enough not to buy their nursery furniture at IKEA), and other people can manage to cook tasty, healthy food for their families every day without spending too much money on groceries, and still have time to do the laundry too?

Do you feel like this makes those people's lives not just more convenient than yours, but also morally superior to yours?

I didn't think so, but I am crazy that way, so help me out for a minute here. Please comment and tell me about one detail of your life that is completely out of control."

I'll start:

My apartment is a disaster area. I wouldn't even dream of having anyone over, and my mom would disown me if she saw it. Despite the special covered litter box with the litter catcher and the special mat underneath, the cats track litter everywhere, and even our clean clothes are covered with a layer of cat hair, because they like to sleep in the laundry basket, which is usually where I pitch the clean clothing. There are currently three days' worth of dishes in the sink, since James is not doing so well on his side of the chores since he started the 56-hour workweek (not that I expect him to; that's a lot of work) and I'm just lazy. The sad part is it's much better than last week's dishes, which took a full hour of my weekend. I'm constantly misplacing things and taking hours to find them, and the saddest part of all is that even though it makes me depressed to look around, I just can't find the motivation to clean and organize it, especially knowing we'd all just mess it up again anyway.

Your turn.

Comments

[laurel714.livejournal.com]

I'm living out of duffle bags in Super 8 Motel rooms. I don't know where I'll be from one week to the next. I have to constantly pack and repack everything I own into the trunk of the car. The ghetto cruiser is old and getting rusty and has 145,000 miles on it. The biggest loss of control is not having an address. The second related loss is the motel-room lottery: it might be nice, it might be scary - and will they allow dogs? Lastly, what will happen if the car dies in a cornfield in Nebraska?!

[squiddna.livejournal.com]

"Lastly, what will happen if the car dies in a cornfield in Nebraska?!" You'll be strafed by a biplane.

[blondeheroine.livejournal.com]

I hope I didn't stress you out by asking when you would have an address! :D I'll simply have to save your postcards and gifts and you'll get a nice big pinata full of stuff.

And here's mine:

I don't have a bed. I have a couch. That's right. I sleep on a couch. I live with my mother and atrocious stepfather and, as such, have no real bed. My mother has offered many times, but in a three bedroom, suburban house, there just isn't enough room. Why? Because what was once my room is now basically a storage area or catch-all and the other room my stepdad keeps multiple instruments of which he can't play any. The upside to this is that I've found I can sleep almost anywhere. But I figured that out during economics class in high school.

[laurel714.livejournal.com]

LOL - no worries.

I had to call a company for something today and they wanted my address and they didn't understand when I said I didn't have one. They kept repeating, "But where do you live?" And I kept saying, "Various Super 8 rooms in the mid-west." I wanted to just say I lived in a van down by the river, but obviously they didn't have a sense of humor.