Organized, My Eye

Organization is not my forte.

One look at my desk would tell you everything you need to know--I am a messy creator. I have notes here, bills there, mail--opened and unopened.

Oh, and coffee. Don't forget the coffee.

That said--if I need it, I know where to find it.

Once upon a blue moon, my well-meaning daughter cleaned my desk. I couldn't find a thing for a week! Needless to say, I was not--er--grateful. I moaned and groaned and griped and complained.

She will never touch my desk again.

Look, everyone has their own system, right? And here's the thing: I know where everything is. I dust. I clean the computer screen and the keyboard. I just shove the stuff around, you know?

If it's important--bills, wills, invoices, medical files--they have a special place. It's just a messy place.

A few times a year I drag in a garbage pail and purge the "I might need this later" crap and throw it out.

Within days, I usually discover that one item or other, I really did need later. Damn it.

I have been in my parents' home for the last few years, first to caretake my father and now my mother.

I do the cooking and chores, including laundry.

When cooking, I am pretty consistent with a quick cleanup. Dishes are done and put away. Leftovers are promptly stored.

Laundry is my nemesis. There is a limit to my ability to cope with clean clothes. Not other people's clothes. Just my own.

I do laundry for my mother: wash, dry, fold or hang and put away.

I do laundry for myself and:

Wash, dry, fold and...stay.

And stay..

And stay...

What is wrong with me?

Yesterday I put all of the clothes away--from two weeks ago! This, so I could do Mom's laundry. I can't fold her clothes if mine are in the way, so this was the push I needed. Of course, by this time the pile had diminished some, because I had worn some items and they were waiting to be washed again.

By the end of the day, her laundry was washed, dried, and put away.

Mine--the new batch--is still sitting folded on top of the dryer.

Now, I would argue this: at least it is folded, and not inside the dryer getting wrinkled!

I joke about this, and I make excuses. The laundry room is downstairs and I can't hear Mom as well down there--what if she needs me? So I hurry to wash, dry and fold and run up and down the stairs.

This is true enough, but I could have put them away before going to sleep last night. My bedroom is down there, too.

Meh--I'd rather watch some television and try to sleep. Read a little. Play with the dog.

The truth is, I have always done this. Always. There were apartment-living days when I went to a laundromat, and those clothes came home folded and just stayed in the basket.

I can't explain to you what makes it acceptable to me to not finish the job. I can't even explain it to myself.

As a mother, the kids' clothes all got put away. Mine stayed in the basket, or on top of the dryer. Why? Hell if I know!

Towels, sheets and blankets, washrags--all put away. It's only my own clothes that defeat me through every load.

Not all my clothes, though. Underwear and socks always make it into a drawer because heaven forbid anyone go to the basement and see my clean panties!

It's not even that I have so many clothes that there's no room. What you see is pretty much it. Most of my stuff is in storage at my own house.

I am a mess!

This was supposed to be an article about organizational tips, but I think it has turned into a cry for help.

Any suggestions?