Her Room

M’s room is a complete disaster, not unlike herself. Every once in awhile when she’s not home, I will walk in there and just stand in one spot and let my eyes gaze upon the vast array of utter shit. I’ve seen messy rooms in my life time, and whenever I tell someone how much of a pigsty M’s room is, they always say, “Well, I don’t know, my room has been pretty messy!” No, friends, your room pales in comparison to this:





The pile of crap you see here does not just consist of clothes. Real garbage lies here. There are multiple shopping bags filled with actual garbage. As well as juice bottles, food wrappers, huge hair balls with tinfoil matted in them, many unopened credit card statements, four empty costco sized boxes of tampons, used make-up sponges, the list is never ending. The sponges used to be thrown in the garbage but because the two garbage cans she has are full, she just throws them onto the ground now.






The only way that you can get the full M’s room experience is by using one of those 360 things that realty sites use. Simple pictures just can’t make you feel the awe that I feel when I walk into that room. Oh, and she also keeps mementos from work. I guess a reassurance to herself that she has friends. It’s actually extremely bizarre – there was a coffee sleeve with a drawing on it resting on her bedside table as well as a note saying something like, “I won’t be in tomorrow, so have a great day!” from a co-worker on her bulletin board.

I actually sent the first photo to a friend of mine and told them that someone broke in and completely trashed the place. She believed me.

Before I go, here is a bonus shot. This is called a "money tree" and M bought it from Ikea to give her good luck. As you can see, the money tree has dried the fuck up: