I just want you to know.
In case you ever visit my house and get the mistaken impression that I’m organized…..
For some reason….people think that everything in the house is color-coded and alphabetized and stacked and labeled and neatly put away into plastic bags that shrink down to the size of a napkin using a hairdryer.
Well….okay….maybe I’m a little organized…..on a good day when the sun is shining and it’s a balmy 75 degrees….and I’ve just watched an episode of Hoarders.
Most of the time, though….not so much.
But somehow….some way….I got the erroneous reputation for being organized.
And I think it’s all due to the numbered baskets.
That’s the key, really.
Spray paint a number on anything and you look like you are one step away from cataloging your household with the dewy decimal system.
The problem is…..I have arrived at the foregone conclusion that my organizational system closely resembles Gilligan’s Island’s three-hour tour.
The skipper too? The millionaire and his wife? The professor and Mary Ann?
They were seven unforgettable castaways…..stuck on an island after a three-hour tour. And they spent the better part of the next three years trying to get off.
But did anyone ever really want to leave the island?
I mean….seriously….the professor could build telephones out of Mrs. Howell’s diamond necklace and a few random coconuts and island vegetation….but somehow scientific genius deserted him when it came to building….ummm…..a raft? And remember when NASA spotted the castaways and they were covered in glue and feathers and Mission Control thought they were from Mars….why didn’t the professor just develop an anti-chicken feather glue machine from Ginger’s eyebrow pencil and driftwood?
They all said they wanted to leave.
They acted like they wanted to leave.
But it was chicken feathers and glue every time.
Martian chicken feathers.
That’s a lot like me.
You see….I truly want to be organized.
I read books on about organization and pin cute ideas for organization and buy all sorts of organizational supplies and spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about how wonderful it would be to be organized. I even spray paint numbers on my baskets.
But in the end it never really happens.
And my dreams of numbered-basket organization……
…..end up looking like two sets of vacuum bags for vacuums that we don’t even own anymore…..
…..and a can of expired Armorall.
All is not lost, though.
Hope springs eternal…..because I just saw this and this on Pinterest.
And I’m sure that this time this organizing thing is going to work for me.
I know I’m going to be organized.
I know my numbered basket system will be the envy of the neighborhood.
I know it’s going to be a success, but just in case it doesn’t work out…..
…..I’ll be the blonde with the lipstick….
….rooming with Mary Ann 🙂
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