For me, it's a matter of whether or not the mess is a reflection of the person's lifestyle and character.
I've lived my entire life with a family member who is beyond obsessively clean. One of my siblings is about the same; the other would live in a toxic dump site if not for his spouse; and I think of myself as being in the middle. It's important to me to have presentable things (NOT in a materialistic way, but clean and organized, even if it's cheap and old--good stewardship of what we have) and places to share with others--a clean, organized environment, to me, is more relaxing. If a friend is going through a crisis, I don't want her to have to wade through knee-deep trash in order to get into my car so we can go for a drive and talk. When people come to my house, I work very hard at creating a calming atmosphere and I can see a person's tension melt away. I can be comfortable most anywhere and easily adapt to others' level of cleanliness, but as for my own space, I do have my own routine of cleaning up.
I've found many times that how a person keeps their things is a good indicator of how they keep their life. At my old job, I regularly waited on a guy who was my age and rightfully very proud to be a doctor. However, every month when he brought in his bills to be paid, they all had late fees and notices.
To me, it's all about how a person chooses to live. A disorganized, unplanned life is usually also much more expensive and doesn't have to be. While a dollar here and there that adds up to $30 a month in late fees and expenses that could have been avoided by being organized may not seem like much to some, to me, that's enough to sponsor another child from my former orphanage.
I can be friends with most anyone; but as for a committed, life partner? I would never be happy being the one who has to make sure everything is found, sanitary, and paid on time. I don't want to be someone's secretary, or, at the very worst, surrogate parent.
I once dated a guy who came from a household in which the toilet was cleaned by throwing a denture tablet into the water once or twice a year; the kitchen was "kept" by putting mouse traps ON THE COUNTER--I walked into the room once, heard a "squeak" and ran away screaming. There was not one, but TWO mice caught in the SAME trap right there amidst the dishes and pans... AND, they had been there long enough that the two had started mutilating each other in the fight to break free.
For various reasons (that extended to lifestyle and choices), our relationship did not work out.
I guess my version of this thread would be, "If I Find A Mouse (or Two) In Your Cereal Bowl (Literally), We Are So Not Dating."
However, the empty starbucks cups, and various receipts pile up easily.
