But on the other hand
The other side of my feeling forced to finish things is my avoidance of finishing other things. Cleaning, for instance: I will clean up for however long then stop just before things are clean. Sure, I have 15 minutes left to do in my living room, but I am not doing it, and by the time I do it, there will be more than the 15 minutes left.
I didn’t force myself because I wanted to watch an episode of House, which isn’t really queen of the excuses. I am now not forcing myself because I am supposed to go out with my grandmother, which is a better excuse, but of course I could have finished that AND the bathroom AND the office in the time I took watching TV. (The kitchen is pretty much clean, my bedroom is not.)
I have nothing against completing things. I like the sense of accomplishment, generally. But for some reason, cleaning up is not there. And I’m not even counting washing the floor, which is my least favourite of all these unfavourite tasks, and something I do less often than I will admit.
It has been argued that the messiness is a symptom of and cause of my depression.
January 22nd, 2006 at 3:06 pm
One does wonder, though. About messiness.
Because–and I am engaging in pure-D rationalization here, as I sit surrounded by piles and boxes of “cleaned up” stuff that is “very important”, which is why I put in the box in the first place–people who are too clean are also considered troubled.
So we’re supposed to be Goldilocks, yes? Not too much, not too little. I say: moderation in moderation, too.