Won't You Not Be My Neighbor?

I am, admittedly, a neat freak. While I wouldn't recommend you eat off my floors, they look like you could. Mostly. I am a clutterphobe. Maybe it's my theatre background, but I must see tidy stage pictures in every room. I hate imbalance. There is no way I could live amidst piles of papers, anything on the floor that doesn't belong there, unstraightened beds and pillows and throws. I even turn the "3" elevator button upside right when it has fallen over on its side, and a million germazoids touch that button every day. So I am not as much of an asshat about CLEAN, but order is important to me. (Ironically, I was so messy as a kid my mom hung a sign on my bedroom door that said "Welcome To The City Dump" and required that I keep my door shut at all times.)

So imagine my horror when walking by, oh, many MANY of the condos in my complex, when the front doors are open for all the world to see inside. Oh, the humanity! For one thing, prices here are outrageous, so we often have 4-6 people living in the same amount of space that I have blessedly always had to myself alone. From the outside, because of the home owners association, all looks uniform, tidy and neat. But peek inside these multi-occupant dwellings and it's enough to send me screaming. I cannot believe how people live. "Bears With Furniture" comes to mind (thanks Rita Rudner!). I've seen stuff that would make me call the Health Department and hire a conservator if anyone I personally knew lived there. But the worst of all, the one that has to be seen to be believed, is the old man who lives with his ANCIENT mother in a one-bedroom, and every CENTIMETER of counter, cupboard, wall, doorway, door, and CEILING is covered with beanie babies. Beanie. Babies. Little beanie shoulder to beanie shoulder. Everywhere the eye can see. ATTACHED to everything. And they leave their front door open all the time- perhaps to feel less suffocated? If I get up the nerve, I'll take a picture and post it here sometime.

Don't even get me started on my neighbor who barbeques every single night of the year... I'll talk about Barbeque Guy With the Kid Who Only Says 'Eeep!' some other time.... his place is a disaster. I wouldn't eat anything he fixed if he were Wolfgang Puck.