Box of junk

I can’t find my socks. As a matter of fact, I can’t find my keys or my way home half the time.

I have spent a great deal of life’s precious moments (you know the ones. They’re stamped on magnets and greeting cards and they “take our breath away?”) exasperatingly looking for things. I’ve wasted perhaps even more of the precious little moments trying to solve problems that were born out of my failure to organize and plan.

As the holidays near, each shopping mall across American puts the upcoming year’s calendars on a kiosk display. To protect the innocent, I’ll just call the person I’m about to talk about the “best friend.” Anyway, the “best friend” scoops up her favorite and proceeds to insert every birthday, anniversary, planned trip, heart worm medicine reminder (with the little stickers), number of days until her 11 year old son goes to college and though she’s done growing her family, the number of days until it’s ovulation time.

OK, now here’s my MO: I wait until the calendars are marked down 90% in March and because all the good ones are gone, I usually end up with the fly fishing calendar.

Then, I get all kinds of into it and write down the few birthdays that I can remember. I plan to hang it later, put it away then accidentally come across it again in July. But I can’t hang it in July because I can’t find any nails.

If I planned more, I could actually avoid running out of gas, showing up at the beach without a towel, and showing up at the vet without my dog.

Oh I make attempts to be more like the best friend. For example, I’m a big basket person. The more baskets the better! There’s something about grouping things together in baskets that feels orderly to me.

So as not to be outdone by best friend, I call it compartmentalizing. Problem is, there’s no method to my madness. Peek in one of my baskets on the kitchen counter for example and you might find:

  • A pen with no ink
  • A car key from the car I used to own in 2001
  • A mail box key from my apartment in CA (I live in Boston now)
  • A receipt for an “all sales final” item…you know, just in case I have to return it
  • A dog toy
  • A sock
  • Vitamins (expiration date came and went)
  • A business card with something scribbled on the back I couldn’t read when I tossed it in and still can’t read now
  • A birthday card I planned on sending to my friend last month but couldn’t find it and because I have no calendar, I forgot the birthday anyway

The truth? All the effort it takes for me to undo my disorganized ways is exhausting to think about!! I can see no worthwhile return on my investment if I spend the next 3 years of my life trying to change.

I’ve come to believe that planning ahead and being in order is overrated. Besides, the best friend would have nobody to pull together and button up if it weren’t for me.
Creative Commons License photo credit: Elsie esq.