There's a leak in the pond outside, so I put the hose in to refill it today. There was a swampy area of mud and water below the pond (our backyard kind of dips down in one area before turning into more hillside), and I slipped and fell in it. This was about 20 minutes after changing my pants, too. I banged my wrist on one of the rocks and scraped it, so I went inside to change and get a band-aid. It was only a minor scrape, but since it was on my wrist I started pondering what would have happened if it was a more severe injury, and I ended up having a minor panic attack. I got lightheaded and dizzy, and I could barely hear myself talking to myself (assuring myself I was ok and freaking out over something trivial). So I lay down for a minute, and then the feeling went away. But then I heard this loud hissing noise and was looking around for the source. Then I realized it was all in my head. Weird. So I changed, cleaned up, and all was well. It was just odd that I had one of those episodes, since they rarely happen, and usually only when I think about medical things too much or have to get an injection. I hadn't had one since my second year of college. At least it was all over in 2 or 3 minutes.
My mom came back from Martha's Vineyard today. She had fun there and in Boston, visiting with her brothers and sisters-in-law and one of her high school friends. She apparently saw Bill Murray by the ferry, too, but didn't actually meet him or anything. I had spent a good part of the last few days tackling the chaos in my bedroom and managed to get most of the mess cleaned up. I also got a mushroom chair and some plastic drawers, so my room looked mostly clean (the table, closet, and my nightstand still need work, but you can actually walk around the room now). My mom was shocked speechless. If you're wondering why me cleaning my room is so shocking, you've obviously never seen any of my living spaces. Oy.
I give it a week before it descends to utter chaos again. My room can never be clean, otherwise the world will implode. It's always my own room though. When I live with other people, I usually keep my own stuff in reasonable order in the communal areas. During my freshman year of college, my roommate said my half of the room was a pigsty, but I kept it strictly in my own area. There was literally a line where the mess stopped, dividing the room between cleanliness and chaos. I was very careful to keep my own messes from intruding on her space. I'm weird like that. And I would also like to add that I'm not the kind of person who keeps food wrappers and stuff like that lying around my room. Those go in the trash can. My messes are usually composed of 40% laundry, 40% papers, and 20% random stuff (in recent years, 15% of that random 20% has become knitting supplies).
I'm kind of looking forward to living all by myself so I can see if my kitchen, bathroom, and other living areas will stay reasonable or if I let it all go to hell since there's nobody else to bother. Hopefully it will just be my room that turns to chaos. I think at least the kitchen and bathroom should be all right, especially if I have a dishwasher.
Wow, that was a rambly post.