If I had that one wish, I would to be in this type of comfort right now. I can't stress how much I hate my home. Its disgusting. And although I can say that I may have contributed to this mess...the mess I am looking at is not mine! Its way beyond the mess I am capable of making. I have an old, crazy and selfish mother who chatters on all the time about how I 'don't do anything around the house' when she's totally missing the point. The funny thing with her is that...when she attempts to do something like 'spring cleaning'...it's hardly a cleaning. More of a springing out of the rubbish lurking in the deep dark corners of our home. So when it seems like shes taking things out of these corners to throw them away...realistically. She isn't. I really don't even know what she's doing.
So then theres my dad...who is completely blind to not see the disgusting state he puts our house in. I know maybe he's completely sick of cleaning because thats what he does all day...but it's to the point where you deserve the title pig because of the mess. I don't want to give any more details of how messy he puts the house in but I honestly feel ashamed. I can never feel happy or comfortable at home [unless it's my room] because of the mess.
The walls...they're yellow.
The windows...don't let any light in.
The objects...there's too much of it.
I'm pretty happy to say that my last 2 months in the house [hopefully!] might just put some hope into perspective. No doubt do I want to transform my new 'home' into something of my own and one I've always always always wanted.
I think I'm going to go trap myself in my room now. x