Don't Send Help
On the Dangerous Precedent I’ve Set for Home Organization — and Why I Don’t Want It to Change
I’ve discovered that I partake in a disastrous cleaning methodology. This process begins with the observation that I’ve acquired too many things, progresses into a daydream of what a renewed space might look like, and then rapidly escalates into booking a trip abroad. What a privileged thing to admit, but it’s true.
Because I lack discipline at times, daydreaming becomes my primary form of motivation. I create vision boards. I soak up content — magazines, Twitter posts, YouTube videos, Pinterest photographs. I venture into the world on a mission to observe refined spaces: restaurant bathrooms, hotel lobbies, library interiors. I book a hotel stay with free cancellation and a “pay at the premises” option… and then I look at flights.
As all of this unfolds, I plan everything that needs to be moved and move it the moment I get home. Sometimes, I ache to escape from work just so I can be home, curating my new space.
Once I finally get the chance, I’m teleported into a new fantasy.
I pretend a baby is on the way, so the home must be impeccable to make life easier over the next nine months. I pretend friends have called unexpectedly and will arrive in fifteen minutes. I speed-clean the communal spaces. I think of my grandmother and her immaculate expectations. Will Mom see this space and think me na’mase’? Kuchina? Or will she be satisfied knowing she helped raise a woman who can maintain a home?
My favorite part about traveling is everything I do before leaving. I sweep. I do laundry. I make the bed. I work with future me in mind. I want to return home with overstuffed luggage and only have to worry about how I’ll use the new things I bought abroad. And when I arrive back, it’s a new kind of motivation: let’s get rid of more things to make space for all our new things.
If only I were grounded enough to make do with my immediate environment.
The truth is, these flights are very important to me because many of the things I want or need aren’t sold where I’m from. Or maybe they are sold, but the quality is lacking or the design is unsightly. Many places don’t ship to where I live, so booking a flight feels like the next best option.
When I went to the Philippines, it was a Kultura and IKEA haul. To Japan: Nitori, Harvest Café, and Dean & DeLuca. To South Korea: Jaju, Hoy, and Sinon Shop. Muji was unexpectedly sprinkled into every one of those trips. They’re just so ubiquitous and reliable.
So, I think to myself: if I can book a cheap flight and inexpensive lodging, why not go abroad? We can run some errands and do a little exploring. But how sustainable is this practice? It isn’t even practical—it’s just exciting. I do it because I don’t have kids or a mortgage. I do it because I don’t have a wedding on the way. I do it because I’m stuck in this mental state of this is my only time to do it, and I will never get this opportunity again.
Is it a dangerous cycle I’ve created? Maybe. But I want to squeeze in at least one more trip before buckling down and locking in. Stupid? Perhaps. But it feels so necessary.
Is this a quarter-life crisis or is this just what being young is?
Don’t send help.