Crazybarefeet came by the house the other day. She walked in, looked around, and with a look not unlike horror and revulsion said "Is this what happens when you don't have your sisters around?"
I swung my head around to see what horrible image was drawing her gaze. I'm not sure what I was expecting to see - a pile of pooh, a dog carrying my underwear, something like that. But I didn't. I didn't see anything. It was then I realized what had Crazybarefeet taken so aback.
"Yeah, it's clean."
For the first time in a long time, my house is tidy. Vacuummed, dusted, organized, tidied. It is a lot easier to do without three people vying for places to store their crap. A lot easier knowing there is no one else to blame for the mess. A lot easier knowing that if I leave something there now, it is me who has to pick it up.
I have no reason to mutter about so-and-so never does anything or so-and-so always does this. I've done dishes more often since being alone than I ever did before. I've done laundry (sort of) and garbages and dusting and... it stays tidy.
It's so weird. I'm clean.