My girls will tell you that I am organized, or as one daughter so kindly referred to me, "Mrs. Uber Organized". I know that she said that with love in her heart. I make lists, I have not one but two calendars, I love files and I was born to spreadsheet.
I am an organizer. I hate clutter. I like to know where everything is and know that everything is in it's designated place. When I am stressed, upset, PMSing, happy or whatever, I organize. Heck, I had time this morning before church so I organized my office closet. Again.
Now it hasn't always been that way. Ask my mom what my room was like when I was growing up. It was so bad at times that she would just close the door so that my dad didn't blow a gasket. See, my father is a very organized person and to see my room in it's messy state evidently made him upset. I wonder why? It's possible that the body of Jimmy Hoffa was under my bed somewhere. My room would have been a perfect Mafia dumping ground. No one would ever have found the bodies. I can now understand my father's unhappiness with the state of my room because I have a child who is just like me at that age. Never let anyone tell you that the Lord doesn't have a sense of humor.
I can't specifically tell you when I went over to the organizing side of things (some might call it the Dark Side muahahahahaha). I know that it was a gradual process that started in college and continues to this day. I can say that when my college roomie, Susan, introduced herself to me one of the first sentences out of her mouth was, "You WILL keep your side of the room neat. I don't like clutter." Alrighty then. Actually, that really helped me. I saw that it was possible to actually put your clothes away rather than hang them on the invisible hooks on the floor. It actually felt good to have everything put away. I could do it.
Nursing school and working as a floor nurse on a very busy Oncology unit helped too. I just had to be organized with every movement or I was sunk.
I will admit to "organizing relapses". The years when the girls were little are sort of an organizational wasteland. Who could find anything under all those toys. I was just lucky if I survived another day and got a load of laundry done. But, at a certain point I pulled myself up from the unorganized swamp, shook myself off and found an organizer. Actually, the Lord provided my first organizer because I really didn't know that I needed one! I was going to go grocery shopping, my list clutched in my hand and three kids in tow. I grabbed a cart in the parking lot and there, sitting on the kid seat was a small plastic binder that had a place for a pad of paper and a small calendar. There was no name in it or any other thing to indicate who it belonged to. I took it into the store and inquired at customer service but they said no one had come in to claim it and that I should take it with me as they couldn't be bothered (that store is now out of business, understandable with that kind of customer service). I didn't know what to do with this thing but I knew it was meant for me and I got myself organized. It felt good. Oh man did it feel good. Oh......I have the urge to organize. Must organize. Bye.
By the way, thanks Susan for kicking my tail into the organized world!
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