Panic Attack

I need to learn to relax or as my loving child says, chillax.
I find that when I have all the time in the world I get nothing done and then I panic just thinking about it. I mean, has anyone ever actually seen a dust bunny grow so big it actually looked like a bunny? And why is it so important to have clean clothes when, in reality, we should just be happy we have clothes?
Somewhere inside if me I wish I could have the kind of house I so often see in a country across the pond. Stylish, neat and organized. But I feel so much better in a house filled with knick knack, dust and piles of crap. Then why do I panic when people come for a visit and I run around tidying up all these piles that look perfectly tidy to me to begin with?
I can literally lie awake all night panicking about what my house looks like if I know I have company coming over.
I honestly don't think the company would care, it's just me. I have even tried to hide all my laundry under my bedspread or just shoved papers into random drawers never to be found again.
This past week has once again shown me that I need to relax and not worry so much about it, life is precious and we never know when it's over.