Long, long ago when I was young and dependent, my parents would nag about the state of my bedroom: it rarely met their standards of tidy. I would challenge their unrealistic ideals by questioning them. When this failed to help my cause I would shove everything under the bed.
Why do my clothes need to be put away? I’m going to wear them eventually; why must the bed be made? I’ll be sleeping in it again, tonight; who am I hurting? Why does this “who” care?
My childhood was far too busy to be worrying about cleaning my bedroom. When I was 5, I was a dinosaur. And dinosaurs don’t clean rooms: they eat bad guys.
Frankly, if you see my room, you might cringe; when I see my room, I see an opportunity for a hip Instagram post. Just because someone does something one way does not mean it’s the only way. This nugget of wisdom can be applied to your studies. A clean room might help one person focus but that doesn’t mean it’s a priority for someone else’s working space.
Until my next transmission.