I love Spouse. I truly, truly do. But that man has a problem that I can no longer ignore. It's not his fault, really. (Well, actually, it is his fault, but, given the situation, one could say he is the victim of circumstances.)
Spouse was a military brat who spent most of his youth living around the world - often in countries with an economy that allowed his mother to hire a maid or two.
Spouse is also the fifth of six children.
Spouse has four sisters.
Spouse is a SLOB.
That man has no more instinct to pick up after himself than a snake has to fold and put away its discarded skin.
In the beginning, this was not too terrible. I could handle it. I was neat enough for three people because my mother suffers from some serious OCD, and she passed it right on down the line. We also started our life together in a one-room efficiency - and it's easy to police what is little more than a large closet. But as time went on, we moved to larger spaces, we accumulated more Stuff, and my energy level dwindled. I had no desire to pick up after both of us, and I had to relinquish my need for order or get a divorce.
The only problem was my personality kept getting in the way.
I really LIKE order. I have trouble thinking straight when there is a mess around me. I am subconsciously (and often flat-out consciously) distracted by clutter. It's like being the Terminator with a busted hard drive - instead of being able to focus on a single detail for analysis, my laser vision skitters from one object to the next, zooming in, registering mass quantities of troubling stimuli until my wiring overloads and my finely-tuned and delicate little brain activates the sequence for self-destruct.
WHONK!... WHONK!... WHONK!... WHONK!... WHONK!....
I don't think smoke actually comes out of my ears, but it definitely feels like it's only a matter of time.
There's a great deal of truth to that saying, "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em." And, out of sheer desperation, I've had to leave my home in the Land of Tidy to charter the High Seas of Clutter. Well, I'm telling you, I have had enough. I know when I've reached my limitations. I know when I've made a mistake. I know when nothing short of mutiny will do.
Avast, me Hearties! I'm taking over this vessel, so pull for the shore! I'm going home, and I'm taking Captain Sloppy with me!