North Star Writers Group

My desk drawers are a jumble of papers, rubber bands and partially-eaten cheese sandwiches. My wallet is bursting at the seams with all sorts of things, but I can never find my driver’s license, or Social Security card when I need them. The glove box in the car is empty, but the floors are piled high with yellowed newspapers, soft drink cups and gosh knows what else.

Nope. I’m not very organized.

I vow often to be more organized. But then something comes up and I have to put off until tomorrow (or the next month) my plans to do it.

I guess I’m not very organized because I’m a saver of all things trivial. A pack rat. I never throw anything away because I really believe I will someday need all of the things I have.

I have a file cabinet at work and it has several of those cardboard dividers, you know, the ones with the little plastic clips on which you can record what is inside the various file folders. Some people write “Things To Do” and “People To Call” on those clips. To date, I have filled out only one divider. It is marked “Miscellaneous.”

The “In” and “Out” basket on my desk is half a doughnut box I found in somebody else’s wastebasket, but I haven’t the foggiest idea which of the thousands of items in the basket are supposed to be “In” and which are supposed to be “Out,” so everything is just kind of lying there collecting cobwebs and dust.

Another reason I’m not organized is that I don’t believe being organized is much fun.

I’ve known plenty of people who were organized. Most were real bores. I think being disorganized makes life much more exciting. I mean, hey, it’s fun to reach into a desk drawer and not know what you’re going to pull out. It’s a blast finding something in your wallet that you thought you threw away 11 years ago.

My wife Sally doesn’t share my enthusiasm for things haphazard. Her motto is “Everything has its place,” and while it isn’t exactly a clever motto, it seems to work just fine for her. Yes, she’s extremely organized. And she wants me to get organized, too.

The other day she bought me a little sign. It says “Get Organized!”

I’m going to put the sign on top of my desk so it will serve as a constant reminder to me.

Now let me think. . .what did I do with that sign?

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This is Column # BB11. Request permission to publish here.