One of the things that happen when I get an episode of depression is that I basically just don't give a damn about my immediate surroundings. Messy, clean, whatever. Makes no difference to me. As you can well imagine this can quickly become a problem in the confines of a truck, even one with a large sleeper like mine.
When I finally reached the truck stop around 5 this afternoon I was possessed by a powerful urge to clean up this pig pen of a truck. I just couldn't stand it another minute. I hadn't even put away my clean laundry yet since leaving home. It was just kind of piled up in one corner of the bed against the back wall. My sheets were just kind of laying on the bed, not fitted to the mattress and nothing approaching actually having the bed made.
And of course there was stuff just kind of everywhere. The trash can was past full and assorted scraps of trash paper were spilling over into the floor. Until now I just didn't care.
I guess the meds are really starting to work. I stripped everything off the bed. I sprayed the mattress, blanket, and bare pillows with Febreeze (which I normally do when I am home but didn't), and then carted the sheets and pillow cases into the truck stop and deposited them in a washing machine. They were actually still clean as I had washed them while I was home, but since I hadn't sprayed the mattress I just felt they needed washed again.
While those items were busy washing I went to town inside the truck. I put all of the laundry away. I emptied the trash. I swept the floor and wiped everything down. By the time I had finished all of this the sheets were washed and dried and ready to go back onto the bed.
I now have a neatly made bed once again, for the first time in several weeks I might add, and a reasonably neat and orderly truck once again.
I think it's a sure sign I'm getting better.
Or I was just bored.