I found this blog a few days ago, where a woman is trying to improve her slob tendencies and clean up her house, and is brutally honest about her journey. It's really fascinating. She shares some great tips and sadly I've remembered best-forgotten moments in my past where I can identify with her. I decided to swallow my pride and share one, because if you aren't me, it would probably be funny. I'm still horrified when I think about it.
When I was a newlywed, we lived in a small, well-kept apartment complex. The managers lived on the premises and were very attentive to issues. I was working full-time, going to school full-time, still learning how to cook and run a household, and at one point also teaching piano lessons. There was simply no time to take care of our apartment and I didn't like people to come over because I was so embarrassed about how it looked.
One day my MIL scored a lot of very cheap groceries that were almost at the "best by" date and shared some with me. I shoved everything I could in the fridge but didn't have room for several dozen eggs. Because it was already late at night and cool outside, I put them on our enclosed patio. I knew you could safely leave eggs outside the fridge for a limited time, and I planned to eat food quickly and have them in the fridge within 1-2 days.
Ugh, I'm wincing just at the memory.
The problem is, life was crazy. I closed the blinds to the patio, because it was night and I didn't want people looking in. The apartment was so cluttered that I could barely even get to the patio, let alone open the blinds. I forgot about the eggs. I don't even know how long I forgot about them.
One day my phone rang at work. It was the apartment manager, and she sounded very upset. My stomach dropped and I couldn't imagine what could be wrong, although I was always a little on edge because our apartment looked so horrible. I don't remember exactly how the conversation went, but I know that she was horrified and I was mortified and apologetic.
It seems a rat had dug under the wooden enclosure and gone in to eat rotten eggs. She had seen the rat scurrying out and had either peered over the fence or gone into our apartment and discovered the rotten eggs. She wanted me to remove them immediately.
I wanted to die and still had to face her almost every day. I promise my housekeeping skills have improved since then.