Some things...

I imagine that if I stayed alone, any visitor to my place would be undeniably floored by the mess. I can see it in my mind; the dishes piled up in the sink, clothes spread all over every single surface, shoes scattered where least appropriate. My books would be littered throughout every room in the apartment, arts and crafts supply taking up their spots on what should have been my study table and socks missing their pair that would be hiding beneath the pile of clothes in the corner. My bed will never be made, nor will my accessories be hanging in their rightful spot. The couch will have a permanent Karen-shaped outline and DVDs will be lucky to be within 5 feet of their cases. The place will be a fire hazard what with the newspaper, magazines and articles covering the carpet. I would come home everyday, take a look at the mess and attempt to clean it up but invariably, the effort will simply amount to the redistribution of said mess.

I wish I could afford leaving alone.