True Life: I am a Slob

Have you ever thought about why you are the way you are? If you’re like me and spend your time laying in bed remembering all the bad shit you’ve ever done, my money is on “yes”. We all have bad habits or behaviors, but the one that I’ve never really managed to kick is being a slob. I’ve quit chewing tobacco, drinking five days a week (thanks college!) and drunk dialing people. Changing my slob ways has been the hardest thing to do in the realm of bad habits. And this bird you cannot channnnnnnnnnnnnge.

I was raised by slobs. Our house was never really that dirty, but it was certainly cluttered. True to Baby Boomer form, my parents had too much shit in a small place. Whether it was tools from my dad’s job or random baskets my mother collected, nothing was ever subtracted. My mother was raised by an Irish-Catholic clean freak and she never could go out and do anything without cleaning first. As a result, and after years of therapy, she was never the cleanest person. Rather than swing the pendulum back in favor of neat freak, I’ve kept the family tradition. Even now, I’ve kept this habit, although I’m working on it. My small townhouse is filled to the gills with my and the Mrs.’ stuff. Since I haven’t lived at home full time since I graduated college, all my garbage is packed into our place.

Being a slob isn’t just about packing a small space with my knickknacks, though. Whether it’s constantly spilling shit on myself or neglecting to clean my car, I can’t help but leave every aspect of my life in ruin.

True story: at my first job, I used to be diligent about bringing food in, you know to cut down on ordering out and to not be a fat ass. But rather than bring in grilled chicken and broccoli, I decided to bring in ribs. Yes, I know it was a bad idea.. I somehow managed to make it through the five or so ribs intact and was super proud of myself. But that day would end like many other days, as I lost grip of the rib and had it log roll down my button down, all the way to my pants and onto the floor, sauce everywhere. “You did it again, didn’t you?” Megan, my work wife, asked after she heard a guttural, “God damnit!” 

After a long day, most times I don’t feel like doing anything. It’s a big excuse, but it’s way easier to unplug and veg out rather than dust. It is way easier to prioritize chilling out by spending time with the pets or going for a walk with the woman. There’s only so many hours in the day. If you figure seven to eight hours are spent sleeping, and eight hours are work, that leaves only eight hours of leisure and you best be damn sure I probably won’t spend them cleaning. Truth be told, I feel at home in the mess as it feels lived in.

Really, the only time I enjoy cleaning is when I’m annoyed or angry. I dug out and built my entire box garden in the backyard during a fight with the Mrs. I catch the spirit of some highly organized person, even if it lasts at most two hours. I usually use this time to do my annual/biannual car clean up. Ride the wave, right?

Nobody is perfect and in the grand scheme of things. Everyone that knows me knows I am somewhat of a mess. Is it the worst thing in the world to be a slob? Well, that depends on who you ask. For the most part, I like me, mess included. I’m working on it and I’ve gotten noticeably less messy. This claim also depends on who you ask cause Lord knows I’m to blame.

Enough about me, what’s your worst vice/behavior/habit? Comment section is go!


  1. When I was single I used to always keep my place clean because you never know when opportunity might knock (sex) but now that I have steady gal I’m starting to fall out of practice. Gotta work to be a step above slob.


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