The Self-Help Hit of the Decade

For most of my adult life, I was a binge cleaner. I lived in small apartments in big cities where I rarely entertained anyone—not when there were countless fun places to eat out, have drinks, or catch a movie, and no need to tidy up afterward. I’d let the disorder and dust bunnies accumulate until I suddenly noticed that conditions were getting pretty squalid. Then I’d spend a couple of days madly stashing, trashing, and scrubbing. The results were so pleasing, I’d swear I was going to keep the place spick and span all the time, but then life and work would distract me and weeks later I’d realize that the dust and grime were back to their customary levels of “no one else can ever be allowed see this.”