surrounded by planning sucks

How does a one bedroom apartment get so full in just 4 days??

My plans are scattered all over my desk/dining room table. Mail, arts advocacy stuff, the piles of beads from a necklace I started weeks ago. a dead amaryllis, books, 1/2 full registration forms for lindy hop, cds, a job application. a stylus (where's the palm pilot?) and a new bottle of wine. And the packages and envelopes and baggies. Damn, I am so fucking disorganized at home. But tell me, please, am I ADD or what, how do people keep clean houses? I don't get it. It's really hard.

And this week, it's even been hard to get out of bed. How do I think I am going to hold a 'real' job if I can't even get up in the morning like a normal person. Sad. I am. Speaking of.. I think it's time for medication.

That's better. Surrounded by all my belongings--is a place where I find it hard to relate to myself. I am not a clean slate, you know. The colors are so muttled and mixed that I can't tell what I'm supposed to be. Ah yes, another metaphor for what I can't determine about myself. Do I ever get the answer?

I need to clean. Yesterday.