Men and women are truly different. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the neatness stakes. Yes, I know this also applies to standards of cleanliness in the smallest room in the house, but I’ve already written a blog about cleaning the toilet, so that is not today’s topic!
I am a Virgo, and I am (usually) organised. Tidy surroundings equal a tidy mind. Tidy mind equates to zen calmness in my world. Not…so…much..anymore. You see, I am living with a boy. A boy called David. Now before all my relatives rush out to buy their wedding hats, I should stress that aforementioned boy is a friend, and that I am camping like a refugee in his spare room, while my stuff is in storage and my house is being renovated.
When all hell broke loose earlier this month and I had to vacate the rental premises, David was first to step up and offer me a place to lay my head. He seemed genuinely pleased I was coming to stay. I was genuinely worried. Now, apart from a few lost years when I was at uni, and the aberration with the ‘luggage loser’ – yes, that will be the subject of another blog – I have not lived with a boy. I am as they say, used to having my own space. What if he was messy? Partial to leaving the lid up and roaming around the house in the all-together? Horrors!
So, I wasn’t really expecting to step into the oasis of order that is David’s house. David is…tidy. And I mean really tidy! His takeaway menus – like his 2,000 CD’s – are alphabetically arranged. In his cupboards there is a place for everything. Even his stock cubes are colour coded! This is such a revelation, that I am actually considering the merits of finding a live-in lover and moving them into the new house when it’s ready. But only if they are as tidy as David.
Pier Point 