It started when I put a few items in my closet together according to color. My clothes had become far too jumbled and unorganized, and in a few choice moves looked much better. As I was musing whether to put something purple on a purple hanger instead of the yellow blouse it held, I decided to continue sorting, but things made of paper rather than cloth.
(Not my closet, by the way) http://www.homecaprice.com
So, rejuvenated by the 20-minute closet transformation, I swept downstairs to attack THE STACKS.
I don’t pay much attention to keeping notes together when I write. Then mail comes in, and since most of it is flat, gets piled in with the notes. And various letters, birthday cards from six months ago, and a few three dimensional items that belong in the junk drawer. There are also the paint samples I brought home from Lowe’s.
Feeling obligated, I put them up behind light switches to determine whether the living room could best be brightened by Silky White, Aged Beige, or Burnished Clay. I think I’ll go with the second one because I’m partial to rhyming words…
Plastic tubs lately cleared of old holiday tags and embellishments were waiting to receive pages in their categories. I started filing like a poker dealer. Notes, bills, family records. Notes, bills, family records. Notes…
Then the phone rang. Or I guess I was the one who speed dialed. Everyone needs to inform a sister about an exciting moment of high industry.
Later, I continued the distribution. Ten minutes in I was hungry for lunch. Never mind that it was 9:30 — nutritious fresh fruit (plus a few Christmas chocolates) would provide new energy for cleaning.
It ended up being a two-day deal. Did I say two? I mean three…well, the tubs are half filled, and my stacks of paper are half the size they used to be. I found some interesting stuff which I’d put aside last summer to use in writing projects.
http://www.everythingsimple.com (It is?)
I also discovered coupons, leftover fuzzy photos from my daughter’s high school graduation scrapbook which I triumphantly finished before Christmas (she’s 38), and a multitude of bills that had already been paid. I filled a trash bag and took it to the garage.
I figured the experience would make an inspiring blog topic because every writer needs to be well-organized. Just wait until I get a real office instead of a dining room table.