Crap Blindness

messy kitchen

I don’t know about you, but I suffer from a little disorder called crap blindness. I define this as the inability to see all the crap in my life because I have been surrounded by crap for so long, I have formed immunity to it.

How does crap blindness start? It creeps up on you in the dead of night whilst you are safely wrapped in the warm embrace of the sandman. In reality, you might leave a take-out menu on the counter. Then before you know it, you’ve added your kid’s daily artwork, followed by a few receipts, a couple of coupons and a hammer. So sure are you this gathering is only temporary, you take an extra mug out of the cabinet to house the abundance of pens, scissors and glue sticks that begin to accumulate.

Before you know it, you’ve spread onto other counters until the kitchen looks no more than a chaotic catchall. So what do you do? You start to pretend you can’t see it. You still clean the dirty dishes and wipe down the countertops but the countertops are shrinking before your eyes.

What now? The disorder spreads; first to the entry hall where shoes, boots, backpacks and mail start to pile up. Once it becomes a death defying feat to exit or enter your dwelling, you put fourteen shoes, three mittens and six magazines away. You leave everything else and cease to see it. Crap blindness claims it.

Crap blindness will inevitably take over the rest of your house. The laundry room will begin to look like a refugee camp with spare socks, jars, paper bags and sacks of potatoes blocking the way.

It will move into the bedroom where your stair climber will become no more than an expensive place to hang your clothes. The location known as “under the bed” will cease to exist because said place is where you start to kick all the socks, coloring books and ear plugs that pile up on the floor. Everything else is claimed by crap blindness.

Your office becomes infected. Piles of important crap collect on your desk, like those eight urgent missives from Publisher’s Clearing House declaring you are going to win you $5000 a week for life! Ponytail holders, reading glasses and foil (?) crowd the keyboard so you can barely type.

Then one day, it gets so bad you can no longer avoid seeing the chaos that has taken over your world. Crap blindness begins to fade and you’re horrified by what you behold. So you build an addition onto your house. Then the crap spreads and the blindness comes back.

Six months later, you wake up and discover the most amazing thing has happened. You are blind no more. Sweet Jesus, you can see! And what you see shocks you to the core of your being. You can feel the panic rising in your throat, choking the very breath out of you. How did this happen? What do you do now? Your only hope is to call the sanitation department and order an extra-large dumpster and get rid of the crap once and for all.

Are there any guarantees the crap blindness won’t come back? Is there a pill you can buy or a shot you can get to vaccinate yourself from this illness? Alas, the answer is no and no. You are at the mercy of crap blindness. It can re-infect you without notice. It is a virulent virus bent on claiming as many victims as possible.

Is there a silver lining to this cloud of doom and gloom? No there is not. But I offer you this, you are not alone. And when you walk into someone else’s house and see all the crap, don’t judge them. They can’t see it. And when you clean your house and think it’s pristine and beautiful? Remember it’s not. It’s full of crap too.

 

 

 

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3 thoughts on “Crap Blindness

  1. Or one night on your way to bed you realize that if, God forbid, there is a fire your entire family is doomed to die from either smoke inhalation or impalement from tripping over the muck boots and landing on a hockey stick. Crap will be the death of me, one way or another.

  2. My counters are covered with mail. Once every two weeks it is cleaned off, and somehow it makes its way upstairs to join various stacks of mail already there. I feel your frustration!

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