organized mess

Many could tell you that I'm a tad bit obsessive compulsive, a few could tell you it goes beyond a tad bit. Going to the grocery store I arrange everything just-so on the little conveyor belt. Having the bag-boy start to unload my cart flusters me and upsets me, but I can't be rude and tell them to leave me alone (plus it just tongue-ties me, so I can't say much of anything). My closet is set-up specifically by color and type of clothing, and everything in drawers is folded just right. There is a routine to many of the things I do, just the daily necessities. But that's not to say that I can't be spontaneous.

And it's not to say that there aren't areas of disorganization in my life. And I've been somewhat inspired by some of Keri Smith's latest blog entries on wish jar to expose them a little...

This is on the side of my bed you can't see when you walk in the door, it's like one of my hiding spots. Mostly all the crafty and artsy things get kept here, things like canvases, my easel, yarn for knitting, and various things I pick up and think I could do something with.

Here's my hope chest, generally things that get set down and picked back up on a daily basis get put here. My calendar there fell off of the wall and I have yet to get something to hang it back up, then the pile of clothes on loan that need to be returned to owners, and my c.d. player that just seemed to find it's home there. Like I said, those things that get moved or used more frequently.

My dresser, all the unopened and opened mail, magazines I haven't looked through, keys, and small paper items get stacked here. Note all the little knick knacks, most of these are things people have given me and I hold onto them because they were thoughtful (but I wouldn't mind not getting any more of those because I'm running out of room for them). Of course some are my things I picked up because of my own fancy, like the wine bottle that just happened to have my named prettily scrolled across the label. There's more little objects on the bookcases and in other places I can find to artistically arrange them.

Finally, there's my bed. I can rarely bring myself to make it, sometimes not even the idea of company coming over can sway me to straighten out the comforter. Perhaps I'm obsessively messy about my bed. It's just so perfectly arranged when I go to climb in at night and everything is exactly how I need it to be cozy and comfortable. All the pillows and blankets molded around to fit where I can slip into blissful dreamy sleep...

So while I may start tidying all the plates and silverware in front of me when I sit down to a meal, making sure they are in alignment and faultlessly distanced, I have my own little beautiful cluttered areas to go home to. What can I say? I'm just a tidy mess in and of myself.