Crunchies and a tidy room

I have felt no motivation to do much in the way of blogposts in recent days. Probably because a friend exclaimed joyfully that I continued blogging and provided entertainment, thereby putting the pressure on to produce something of worth, rather than the usual mindless drivel I generally produce.

Today's piece focuses on something many of my peers will find a near and dear subject to them; the issue of tidying one's room.
The Husband was over yesterday. Before I launch into the topic I just this second came up with, and decided would be excellent material, I will share with you this anecdote, for I feel it is amusing, and you will all find it amusing too goddamnit!
So, a few months back, when I was doing the ol' year 12, The Husband said to me 'if you get above 90, I will buy you $100 worth of crunchies'. There is a back story to why crunchies, to briefly summise, I said to him once 'but they taste better when you buy them for me'. So I got over 90, and he had to pay up. Yesterday, was pay day.
I picked him up at the supermarket, so I could sadistically watch him calculate $100 worth of crunchies, and then have this amount rung up by a bewildered cashier. As I was driving there, I got a text, suggesting that 'I look like a psycho with a crunchie obsession'. Then there was the counting (sadly Coles had specials on, which made the mental arithmetic much easier, much to my dismay). I admit, the shelves were quite bare of crunchies by the time we were done. I also learned a lesson; filling a shopping basked with crunchies, will get people looking at you as if you have a mental problem. 
Then there was the cashier. I was not disappointed, as the glances we received from the cashier were ones of deep surprise with a touch of suspicion. I particularly liked the touch of the single pack of mint crisp timtams which we put right at the end. I like to think that this cashier would have recounted this story to her friends, thus putting our saga of crunchie purchasing into the universe.

But. Several crunchies into the day, The Husband ventured into my room, making loud comments about the state of it. It is my observation that there are people who are fanatically neat, those who generally inhabit states of general disarray and therefore can never find anything yet are content within their mess, and finally those who would ideally be neat, yet find that often they are in a state of general untidiness, yet can find anything and everything within this mess (aka the heap system). I am one of the third. The Husband is one of the first.
I genuinely believe if causes him physical pain to see my room in its natural state of mess, with things strewn on the floor and, for that matter, every available surface. I can find anything within my room instantly, however it is not neat, or tidy. I am like my father, whose office is truly something to be amazed at. Books lie in haphazard piles, with no obvious system to the piles, his desk is just awash with papers, some even hiding the keyboard when he isn't using it. I haven't ventured into his draws for quite some time, and frankly, it is a place even I would dare not delve too deep.
But, I mentioned to The Husband, that I should enlist him to clean my room one day (in jest I might add), to which he responded that he would quite like to. So we did a little clean. I am sitting on my bed, staring at one of the areas we cleaned, and it is indeed neat, and tidy, and beautifully ordered.A far better job than I could ever have hoped to achieve on my own. Guess who's coming around next weekend?
I don't really think there is any great conclusion to be drawn from this post. Other than, if you are not a person who is tidy by nature, have a friend who is, so they can help you tidy. And buy you lots of crunchies.

At least this year as I struggle through first year Uni, I will have a tidy room, and I'll at least be able to survive off crunchies for a good six months.