I’ve been doing a shitload of cleaning lately. It’s mostly due to the fact that I finally have time to clean, and partly because people came over Saturday to get drunk and I’m not a big fan of piles of stuff lying around drunkies. That leads to bigger messes than I care to deal with, so I cleaned. I still technically have some dishes to wash, and after I use the last pair of rubber gloves, I’m not washing dishes again until we get more. I hate slimy dishsoap residue. It’s gross.

At any rate, back to cleaning. I’ve been going through recent and older stuff all day now, cleaning off my desk as well as boxes of stuff that Tommy and Sarah packed up from my old room at the parents’ house. It’s odd to go through a stack of grad school notes one minute then be putting away crappy poetry about Batman and Indiana Jones that I wrote when I was eight. I guess I’m just having some problems mixing nostalgia with organization. There isn’t much organization at all in my past, but my newer self is much more OCD, so trying to sift through two discordant piles of stuff is bizarre and disorienting.

I’ve reached a sort of impasse at the moment, however. I hit a box of stuff from elementary school/junior high, and I don’t really want to continue messing with it because I’m not in the mood to be reminded of who I once was. I just don’t feel like putting up with the backwards ramblings and drawings of a socially-broken, depressed, freak-girl. If my friends think I’m weird enough as it is now, they would never have recognized me ten or twenty years ago. It’s strange enough for me to go through just high school stuff. Maybe I should take a break from cleaning my desk and file cabinets and switch to scrubbing the toilet or sweeping. Some days I hate dealing with the old Erin, some days I don’t mind. Today, I’m just too tired from recent stress to want to deal with her. Fucking freak. I know there’s no way to kill her off completely, and I guess I really wouldn’t want to, but there are days that I am glad to not constantly be reminded of her. Depressing. Oh well. I think I’ll switch to arts and crafts now. The card catalogue is a great place to store and sort that stuff. I just needed to get out of my head for a minute and type something before I lost myself and forgot to wake Ian up for work.