Just the way I'm supposed to be...

I'm not a stickler for absolute cleanliness. I'm not. Really. But I was always brought up to believe that respecting myself is respecting my household... And when I not only let other people come in and disrespect my home or my order of things, but begin to leave disasters myself, then there's something terribly wrong. At least in my view.

Again, I'm not an OCD cleaning nazi, but I like my space, and I like my space to be relatively clutter/junk/disgusting-free. My girlfriend and I disagree on that, apparently. I respect the fact that she doesn't feel as if she should be constricted to the whole cleaning up your room thing. I know it's probably tied to the fact that most of us (meaning our generation) have probably been told twenty million times by our parents to go clean our rooms before we are punished by some means. Fine. I get that. That's totally your prerogative... But that's also why you have your own room to fuck up? Maybe I'm just being mean and callous because I'm hormonal, but honestly... 

Come on. 

When I'm so uncomfortable with the way that my room looks that I don't let people even peek in the door, I'm too ashamed to say hey we can move this to my room, I'm not even comfortable putting people's coats in my room when we're having a get-together... There's an issue. And if I'm the only one seeing the issue, then it's an even bigger issue...

I think that it bothers me the most because I feel like this is one of the many ways I've been losing myself, my ideals, and my autonomy since I've been here. I've been slipping so much, and not caring about myself, what I've accomplished, what I've done in my life that I'm beginning to fade into my queen sized plaid sheets (yes they're flannel. yes I'm that gay). I think I'm upset not just because of the whole trashed room thing, but because I lost so much when I came here, and now I'm losing even more, when it seems like I have nothing.

I'm seriously down to nothing. I'm nine bucks away from being bankrupt, and one more disappointment away from going absolutely insane. I'm a recluse; my only friends are my girlfriend's and again... They're not allowed in my room so I rarely see them. I haven't had more than maybe three hours of human contact other than my girlfriend all week. I'm disappearing... And I'm not doing anything about it.

I don't have a really happy ending or transition for this post, so I'm going to stop while I'm ahead, listen to something that involves Conor Oberst (he always makes me feel better about my whining), write some sucky poetry, and continue with my grooming day.