So, for the last ten years or so, my baby brother (who is now 30) has been living with me. Basically freeloading off of me. He chipped in for rent, but his portion was pretty much just a token pittance. Pretty much his only expense was feeding himself. I allowed this, because he had nowhere else to go. My parents are very pissed off at him. Even still, after ten years. He had his life made. He is a freaking genius. He can do complex calculus and physics problems in his head in seconds. He got himself a full scholarship to MIT. And he flunked out in a single semester. Because he is the world's single most lazy person. Anyway, he's been working at UPS for the last ten years loading trucks on the graveyard shift for not all that much money, and leeching off of me, because I am pretty much his only financially stable sibling. Go Gen-X!!!
But, last year, he got a promotion at UPS. He's making nearly double what he used to. And, with two friends, he was finally able to get out on his own place, not leeching off of me, but actually paying his fair share of the rent for the first time in his life. He moved out last November, and it's been kind of nice to have him gone, to be honest. His incredible laziness translated to a home that was constantly messy. Me having to constantly be cleaning up after him because the only time he would ever do it himself was when I stood over him and made him do it, and frankly it was just easier and less stressful to do it myself. An apartment full of clutter because when he moved in, he never really unpacked, or found places for all of his stuff. An ungodly pile of shoes blocking my front door, because he would never throw out old shoes once he bought new ones. Boogers smeared all over the back of my couch. The dude would even leave half eaten food just lying in the middle of the living room floor.
Aaaaaanyway. Since he moved out, it's been amazingly easy to keep my home clean. Like, I hardly even have to do anything now. There's this huge amount of stress I never realized I was carrying around that's just gone now. My home is clean all the time. There's a lot less annoying clutter. It's infinitely easier to keep things clean. And it's just so much less stressful now that I don't have to deal with him anymore. You never notice it until you don't have to deal with it anymore, but having a home that is constantly messy and cluttered is really, REALLY stressful. Or maybe that's just me, and my OCD a place for everything and everything in its place mentality.
So, my freeloading brother moved out, and all of a sudden I'm free of a lot of stress and it's super easy to keep things clean. I'm sure these two things have nothing to do with each other.
In more entertaining news, one of the two people he moved in with is just as messy as he is. The other is a meticulous neat freak who is CONSTANTLY flipping his shit. I mean, this is the setup for a bad sitcom, right? He came to me and asked how I dealt with my brother yesterday, and I was like, "You knew what he was when you signed the lease with him." I may, or may not, have added a maniacal laugh afterward. You'll never know for sure. For some reason, seeing someone else struggling to deal with what I've been dealing with for the last decade is kind of hilarious to me. But then, I am kind of an asshole.