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End of year thoughts: embrace the chaos
When I lived in Berlin, my landlady was an elderly Serbian woman who would always clean. Even if her house was in perfect order, she would find a corner to vacuum, a surface to wipe, or some clean dishes to wash again. For forty years, she would do her laundry exclusively on Wednesday evenings.
I, on the other hand, was a complete mess. I wasn’t proud of it, but I knew it. In my own way, I was working through it.
I was twenty-five, working ten hours a day, partying six, and eating, showering and sleeping the remaining eight. If she announced she was coming to visit the flat, I would go into full panic mode and clean as much as I could. It was never good enough. The chaos would always shine through.
Thinking about her, her habits, and her life, in general, would give me anxiety. Yes, everything was in order, and yes, everything seemed perfect. But if one little thing was out of her control — for example me moving the Jesus poster (yes, there was a Jesus poster in my rented flat) — she would break down.
The extremes in her behaviour always made me wonder: with all that cleaning, what was she trying to fix? Actually, what is she failing to fix? Why couldn’t she handle a little bit of chaos?
I left my party phase behind a while ago and decided to grow up. I still work a lot, but…
