Cleanliness is next to a man-made concept

Oh, I'm telling you now, this apartment of mine is going to be so clean, so pristine, that those who enter will think that they have just walked into Kal-el's Crystal Fortress of Solitude or the Celestial Room of a Mormon temple. But no, Superman's father will not begin telling them of their higher purpose on this planet, nor will they be looking forward to an eternity spent with their white bread family. Instead, when the veil is lifted, they will find my apartment completely clean and purged of all foreign and extraneous elements. My Dell computer will shimmer in the light of my Target floor lamp while the visitor sips a glass of savignon, reclines on my italian leather, and drifts off to paradise listening to the melodies of Tchaikovsky's Symphony No. 6. The living room will be literally buzzing with a calming energy, such will be the power of chi in my apartment.

Yeah, so I've got this complex that makes me unable to achieve anything creatively if my apartment is not perfectly clean. I have two options in dealing with the complex. For one, I could start smoking weed and just chill, letting my apartment go, letting it become an even bigger mess than it's been in the past; and just create, just do, among the piles of disorderly shit and decay. Maybe I'd risk getting a mustard stain or something on a masterpiece, but atleast I'd be producing one. Otherwise, I could become a cleaning nazi-or ninja, if you will-and make the apartment as pristine as alpine snow. And, of course, I would have to stop doing everything I do that makes my apartment messy, and start being more disciplined in keeping it clean.

I've opted for the latter, and have just taken a break in my cleaning to let everyone know this.
Yes, its going to happen. Mark my words.