Imagine a little 1-bedroom apartment, maybe 300 square feet--living room, bedroom, bathroom, a narrow kitchen. I don't know how much her rent was, but I hope it was cheap, given the size of the place.
Just her and her long-haired cat.
She had recently thrown out her last boyfriend, excuse the mess please.
The Mess. Wow. Let me just say that while I can still be angry at this woman 13 years after getting away from her and her crazy mood swings, I still don't hate her. I still feel sorry for her, because of The Mess. I'm doing this post to try to show her in a more sympathetic light.
Remember that Two is legally blind--maybe 5% of "normal" vision, and even then everything is upside down. She lived in this place with The Mess for months before I ever met her. She can't cook, and given The Mess (in a minute, in a minute!), I'm guessing she's not big on cleaning, either.
As you enter the apartment, there's a short hallway--maybe 6 feet long--with a closet on the right. Straight ahead to the living room, maybe 10 by 10. Couch, two foam fold-up chair beds, TV, her rocking chair. Bedroom's maybe 8x10. Bed, dresser...and The Mess.
I didn't really understand how big The Mess was until we were moving her out, the last of August 1996--barely 3 weeks after I met her. She wanted to move to a 14' x 80' trailer on a lot about 15 miles outside of town.
So it's moving day and I grab some big trash bags, thinking I'll just toss in what looks like a pile of dirty laundry. I end up filling more than 10 of those buggers, and I discover that The Mess has some treats, like a box of Cracker Jack! Cleverly hidden throughout this mound of clothes, bedding, and towels are hairballs and turds from Two's cat. Nice.
When I got all this stuff bagged, I had to get it to my car, parked at the roadside. Nice, long hike, several times, and then my little '83 Citation was as overstuffed as one of those damn bags. Then I cleaned the place up and left.
What? No help? Nope. Her relatives showed up, grabbed a whole mess of stuff in one trip, and vanished. They didn't come back to help. They were waiting at the trailer--"Where have you been?" Nice.
Unloading The Mess was much easier; I just threw the bags up on the front porch, then moved it all into one of the spare bedrooms. I swear, it all multiplied at some point--now it was several feet deep in one corner of the room!
I had plans to wash all that stuff, but in the 3 months I was there, I hardly made a dent, even doing laundry several times a week.
I wonder if she ever managed to sort it out.
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