Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Tales of a disorganized nothing...

You know, when I was in second and third grade, that series was my absolute favorite. I tore through every single one of them as soon as I found them. My son, who loves to read, hates them. I don't get it. They're about a boy. Why doesn't he like my favorite thing? WHY?

Now I must force myself to accept that my children are half my DNA, but not me. I think I'll blame his poor taste in books on his dad.

I'm a disorganized mess. I'm always trying to stay on top of things, throw out the junk mail the day it comes in, not hang on to magazines and books and *stuff*. But somehow papers pile up. Nothing's where it belongs because I can't figure out where it DOES belong. I'm not a naturally organized person. Add to this my four kids' junk, my husband's junk (which I don't generally touch so as to avoid the "Where did you put my junk?" quiz) and I just have lost any small semblance of control I once had.

Who am I kidding? I've never been organized a day in my life.

BUT....BUT!!!!! I bought a desk this weekend. This big huge desk with tons of storage space and a file drawer and a big old hutch. Now I have places to go with the "everything in its place" theory. Tons of space to organize and put things. Now I can be organized.

I'll report back to see if my theory had any validity whatsoever. I have a hypothesis, but since it's a little pessimistic, I'm going to pretend that I don't.

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