I let my brain put things where it’ll actually use them.

And this is why I hated cleaning my room as a child. It’s been a consistent point of contention between my mother and me all my life, but whenever I “cleaned” the way she wanted me to, I couldn’t find a damn thing afterwards.

Certain things go on my nightstand for a reason. Certain things need to be out on a table, fully visible, near my door. Some clothes are in one spot because they were lightly used but are not soiled, and that concept eludes my mom (she would insist on just washing it.) Things are where they are for reasons. Instead of teaching me how to keep my stuff organized (which is a skill I clearly could have used instruction on), I was taught that “cleaning” means “shoving everything into a drawer or closet.” (It was “out of sight, out of mind,” for my mom.)

I’d inevitably forget what I put where, leading to long searches to find each and every important thing. As soon as I found all the important things and set them where I’d naturally be able to use/remember them, that’d be the cue to be told that my rOOm’S tOo mEsSY again.

And the cycle repeats…