If it is not an actual sickness, it certainly bears resemblance to some diseases, notably the common cold. People have their opinions as to how one catches a cold. The theories tend to line up on the side of the medical experts--"a virus"--and moms--"You went out in a cold rain without a hat on." (It doesn't matter who is right. Go with mom. She'll bake you a birthday cake; your physician won't.)
My wife and I caught this bug. I'm fairly sure I caught it from her--likely she put something in my iced-tea.
It started with a project that created a pretty noticeable mess. Installing a heat-pump system required, cutting holes, gutting a closet, and working in the attic, with the inevitable shower of debris. The mess went from mild to moderate with some other perfectly logical, "while we're at it," additions to the project. Of course when the project was finished--or nearly so--remember my horseshoe nail tale--the clean-up has to take place. This is when evidence of a virus became unmistakable. The "while we're at it," and "it would be a shame to" additions to the simple "sweep up the sawdust and put stuff away" basic requirement, are still growing. Boxes of old tax records are being burned. 
An office space was subjected to a Sherman-like scouring. Material has been discovered which, "we don't need or want," but which, "is too good to throw away," and so a correlated complication will be a garage sale. The plague was already headed to the home of my automobiles and tools, but the spread of the infection was made sure by mention of a sale, and impending company.
The thing is now in a full-blown metastacized state. "It doesn't make sense to clean the shop and then come back and make a mess fixing that beam that the bugs got in a while back . . . ." (This was my reasoning, not my lovely's.)
Where will it end?
I do believe in heaven!
Even people like me who are content to live in squalor--as long as there are no dead, stinky things involved--have a desire for order (enough to satisfy our desire). We live in a world, however, which, if left to itself, becomes increasingly chaotic. It is one aspect of the Fall.
So, I guess maybe the syndrome I speak of is caused by a sickness after all; one that no amount of sweeping and scrubbing can cure, sin. Of infinitely greater importance than the mess outside is the chaos within each of us. We need help.
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