Saturday, April 24, 2010


I love boxes. Baskets. Drawers. Containers. Love them all. Almost in a weird way. I fully admit to being borderline OCD about it. Even worse than my outright love of containers is my need for symmetry. Balance. Yes, my containers have to be symmetrical. It's a sickness, I know.

I love organization, though you'd never believe it from looking at my house. Trouble is, I'm the only one that lives here who passionately loves organization. And it's not the kind of thing that can occur when only one of six people embrace it.

I was reminded yesterday of how much I adore organization. How things are supposed to have a place. And those things that have places are supposed to be put back where they belong.

I'm outnumbered. Clearly.

I decided to tackle the former office/future guest room/ current clutter magnet. It's hard to take one room, already small and multipurpose and force it to have more things and more purposes. But I'm working on it. Once I can get it organized, I tell myself, that it should cease to be the clutter magnet. Because if it's clean and the things inside it have a place, then no one can easily justify just throwing stuff in there randomly and closing the door. Right?

Okay, so I'm a bit delusional.

Clutter is my enemy. And really, most of the random stuff cluttering up the room has been moved to the basement, or as I like to refer to it, the black hole. I'm a little afraid of the basement, frankly. It's that bad. I need to get that organized too, but it's just too big, too daunting, too messy to even think about it.

That, my friends, is why basements have doors. To contain the chaos.

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