Usually, I remember I have to clean in the five minutes before a friend comes over. That’s when I look around and see the jacket still draped over my kitchen chair, the pot I used to make oatmeal still “soaking” in the sink (several hours should do the trick), and the pile of mail that might be important but I haven’t opened yet — with a fresh set of eyes. I live alone and have long described my cleanliness as not dirty, but maybe a little messy.
