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Things always happen at the worst possible time, don't they?

Like right now. I'd just felt a flicker of inspiration to get past my block and sat down on my bedroom floor to write (desks don't work for me anymore, meh). In comes my mother with the sudden idea to clean up my room!

I always get mad when people touch my things. I'm not a very organised person, but I'm not disorganised either. I always know exactly where everything is, even if to other people my desk looks like a garbage dump. So when other people try to put my things in order, I always lose them because my sense of order is different from theirs! I've lost so much stuff already this way, including flash drives with important information on them (and by the time they turned up again, it was too late).

I keep telling them to leave my room alone, but they never listen. I even keep the door closed so they don't have to look at the destruction site when they pass the hallway. I'm the one living in this space, so this is my problem. Leave it the hell alone! *sigh*

And now that I got upset by that mini-shouting match with mum, all the motivation do to whatever went down the drain.

Damn it!

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