So what if I lift my to-do list from a video game?

I am a messy person. Not a dirty person, though sometimes my desk has last week’s coffee stains or an empty bag of chips. I’m human.

So too, apparently, are the NPCs in Hozy, whose apartments I tidy and decorate as I procrastinate my own real-life chores. I have endless patience for these characters, like the characters in other “nesting games,” as I call them — Unpacking, Small Spaces, House Flipper, A Little to the Left. They leave their spaces messier than I ever would leave mine, filthy dishes piling up in the sink and trash strewn about the floor. It’s my job as the player to clean up, organize, and find a dedicated place for every item.

Disgusting, I think as I collect every bit of trash I can see, bobbing my head to the game music as I work. That’s so me, I think as I find expensive electronics and important mementos stuffed under the bed and into random drawers. There’s a satisfying snap or chime that tells me when I’m done, when everything is in order. I take extra time after I’ve completed the game’s checklist to organize things by size or alphabet or ROYGBIV.

When I close up a nesting game to make dinner or take my dog for a walk, it’s harder than usual to ignore the “to-be-put-away” pile next to my desk. The box I never unpacked when I moved into this apartment starts to look a lot like the box I just unpacked in Unpacking, which was filled with miscellaneous items that all found a home eventually. What if my items all had a home, too?