Clutter rage syndrome. That’s what I call my behavior whenever I see a mess. Well I wonder where that comes from? Perhaps it’s from when my mother would have a fit about all of my siblings and my mess, and throw everything in a big pile in the middle of our dining room. Then we would be tasked with immediately putting things away where they belong. That’s basically what I feel like doing, except I hate the feeling I get after having a fit. It’s not worth it, really, especially since it’s something that seems to never go away. There will always be a mess somewhere.

Rather than having a fit, I can do the best I can to make things right, and if it simply doesn’t work out, then I can at least say that I’ve done my part. And not in a flippant way, as if to say that I’m the only one trying to do anything about it. Rather I would be understanding of the circumstances which brought about the mess, and the lack of ability to clean it up right away, due to more important things needing attention. Of course, I could also consider the ad hominem aspect of personal hygiene, and poor organizational skills. But then that would be just the same as having my fit of rage.

It’s really a train of thought, that if I get on it, I’ll end up hating myself for the aftermath of the nasty attitude that I take on. All because of some things being carelessly left out, or unfinished. I will conclude with my pledge to simply do what I can and try to understand the circumstances. Being helpful is only helpful if you’re helping make things better, not complaining about how they should be better.