Sometimes I wonder if my house would ever get straightened up if it were not for the occasional, and sometimes spontaneous, guest.
I swear I got more done (put away, straightened up, organized, slightly cleaned) in 30 minutes–upon learning yesterday evening that a friend who had been a “maybe, but probably not happening” visit on my calendar suddenly became an “I’ll see you in about half an hour” visit–than I could’ve gotten done in an hour and a half otherwise. Or more.
I know I’m not the only one.
I know I’m not.
Do I care if my house is immaculate when a friend — someone I care about enough to have in my home — comes over? No. Do I love, love, love the deadline and rush I feel tending to all *these things* that pile up around my place, knowing I only have *but so much time* to tend to them before said friend arrives? Yes, I love these moments of pressured activity. Very, very much so.
I realized as a young woman, after bouncing around from an apartment here to an apartment there, that it was a kindness I gave myself to host a party at my place a couple months after moving in. More than once I was hanging art less than an hour before guests arrived, or finally putting into storage some box that had been sitting around waiting for the right moment for its movement into storage to be the next item on my priority list.
Tips for an orderly life
Hosting parties, large or small, or even simply having a good friend over are, for me, amazing opportunities to create deadlines and pressure for activities that otherwise rarely have *deadlines,* particularly micro projects such as putting things away or tidying up some project strewn about my place.
Kinda creepy octopus graphic source from CSA Images.