Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

I have come to determine that this is the way life works: you make a mess, and then you clean it up.

Of course, when I say "life," I mean me. I'm sure other people operate this way, maybe even all people do to some extent, but seeing as I'm not everyone, I can't make a blanket statement as such about the various lives of all humans in existence.

But most assuredly, in my case, this is how I roll.

Examples:

- When I make cookies, it is virtually impossible for me to make it through with a clean countertop. There is always flour, sugar, so forth, on the cabinet before I get them all baked. Sometimes I make it through without leaking too much, but more often than not, there's a noticeable layer of white in my workspace. Similar things can be said about anything I do in the area of food preparation.

- The current semester of school just started today, and my room is already in need of some organizational attention. I have clothes in the floor, trash needing to find a place in the trash can, books sprawled wherever I happened to let them land, clothes than need mending covering my desk chair, shoes that need to go in the closet, and a desk that needs to be cleared in order for me to be able to work on it. There's nothing major. A good 20 minutes should have everything spit-spot. But it never ceases to surprise me how quickly I can create disarray.

- Speaking of clothes that need mending, those demonstrate how I can't ever work on anything without spreading my project out as far as I can extend it. I pulled out all of those clothes a couple of days ago to examine each of them and assess what I needed to do and where I needed to start. And I got out the sewing machine, intending to try my hand at fixing the various tears and holes. Before I even threaded a needle, my bed was covered with my clothes, the contents of the sewing machine were spread out on my desk, and there was thread laying strewn around. Then with this grand explosion, all I managed to do was rip a few seams on a skirt. I couldn't quite remember how to thread the machine to be able to go beyond that point.

I could go on, but I think you get the idea.

I have come to accept this. In an earlier part of my life, I was uptight about messes. I neither wanted them nor liked them, and I would disallow myself to do things effectively in favor of staying neat. That is no longer the case. I have taken Mrs. Frizzle's advice, and I do indeed "get messy."

That being said, as much as I accept the "make a mess part" it should be noted that the "clean it up" part is just as important, and I would not accept the former were it not for the latter. If one mess is not cleaned up, it quickly turns into two messes, then a few more, and then a gigantic one that is impossible to work with.

In certain circumstances, I don't always do the "clean it up" part so well. And that is when I come to have a problem with my mess-making tendencies and wish that I could work without creating disorder. A little mess is okay. A big mess....I'm not that accepting yet.

And so this weekend, I must tidy my bedroom. Before it gets as bad as it was when I cleaned it up last week. Since I started college, that is one of the objectives most weekends. It's a never-ending cycle. Make a mess. Clean it up. Make the same mess. Clean it up again. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. In every area of my life.

Lord, may I never tire of repetition.