Madly Organized People Are Mad
My husband is organized, after a fashion. He keeps everything in neat stacks; i.e., his socks, his golf shorts and his mail. He’s very neat. But doesn’t dust. But he does pick up after himself and is a dream to share a bathroom with. He even picks up after me.
My daughter is organized, to an optimum degree. She has everything she owns folded as tight and as small as it will go and tucked into a bin of some sort with things of like kind. You have to use a crowbar to get anything out of the bin and heaven help the soul who doesn’t put it back in the right order.
I’m organized, in my own way. You see it’s a matter of perspective. I can get my sewing corner organized and neat as a pin. Sorry. I can organize my desk in my studio so that it’s ready for Studio Beautiful. And my kitchen can gleam! But … I’m a creative. A clean sewing corner is an invitation to start a new project. A clean studio is a siren’s call to sit down and re-design my logo. A clean kitchen is a solemn mandate to bake something messy and exotic.
Well, we can’t all be organized. Two out of three isn’t bad.