I want to start off by saying that I'm not perfect. My home isn't perfect. I don't' shop at West Elm, it probably won't ever be featured in a magazine or even on Instagram, and I'm cool with it. Because this home makes me happy, it makes my boyfriend happy, and we are living a cozy and happy life together, and there's nothing better than that.
Our 720 square foot one bedroom apartment is the right size, and the layout is phenomenal. BUT because our apartment is on the smaller end, it has a tendency to look like the apocalypse in a matter of minutes.
To be honest, messy and I don't really jive. When things are dirty, I notice that I lose all energy, like a fly that has fallen trap to a bug zapper. At the sight of the mess, ZAP, I melt into the couch with the inability to focus on anything except rewatching the Orange Is The New Black for the third time.
To top it off, I fidget. One minute I'm laughing at Tasty on the OITNB next thing you know I'm reorganizing my closet drawers. Mid-way between that, I've decided to clean out the fridge, and before I finish, I think this is a perfect time to go for a swim. It's a smorgasbord of unfinished tasks.