As I've mentioned before, I try to find meaning in whatever happens, so this must mean that I'm supposed to say something else today.
Since whirling is what I do best, that's what I'll do instead of trying to find a topic.
My day started with a tidbit in the newspaper which caught my eye. A man killed his wife, saying that he was mad because they had lived in their house for four years and they still hadn't unpacked. This pointed out several things to me:
- I guess maybe it's good that I'm not married.
- There are people crazier than moi out there.
- Lack of good housekeeping skills can threaten one's well-being.
All my life I have speculated as to the source of this problem. It was bad enough when I was alone, sharing the chaos with only my pets. But now a child is having to plow his way through my daunting disorder.
Whenever I think of this problem I recall a long ago conversation with a very good- looking, successful Japanese man from work who liked me. He was trying to invite himself over to my apartment.
"I'm sorry- you can't come over!"
"What?! Can't come over? Why?"
"Well, I have this problem..."
After much prodding, I finally gave in.
"I'm a slob."
He never did get it, and he eventually moved back to Tokyo. Over there where space is at a premium, slobs do not and cannot exist.
Perhaps I have finally found a solution. I can move to Japan.