I Hate Tidying!

Cleaning I don't even hate as much. Cleaning is a chemical activity, and satisfying in a way. Tidying means having to find homes for all the stuff that's lying on the floor, actually stashing it, and then remembering where I put it later. It means drawers and cabinets opening and closing, stacks of things toppling and falling over, heavy things being hefted, tricklets of perspiration trickling down the spine, dull aches propagating across the brain pan, sweaters being consigned to oblivion in the back of the wardrobe, and sad neglected dishes that I don't even recognize turning up in dusty dark corners of the kitchen.

I need lots of room, and clear shelving, and a crew of organizational robots.