I’ve been disorganized my entire life. In fact, I could easily turn into a hoarder if things don’t work out for me. I’ve had the “Don’t touch my stuff until I go through it!” tantrums before.
So I’ve been trying to get organized the way some women compulsively fad-diet. I know all the tips and tricks and methods and strategies, but at the end of the day my stuff is still out of control. Sometimes I picture it all like an angry mob. The standard advice of “set a time period, and don’t forget to add clean-up at the end!” just doesn’t begin to turn the tide.
So I think I’m going to give in and work with my natural organizing method, which is “drag everything out of the area in question and throw it on the floor, then only put back what you want.” Then, whatever’s left over can sit in a pile on the floor for as long as I need it to. I can shift the pile around from room to room if necessary, like into the bedroom if people are coming over. My theory is, if I have to constantly trip over the shit, I’m that much more motivated to send it to Goodwill, as compared to shoving it neatly in a closet somewhere every time my egg-timer dings.
Sure, that pile looks like a tiny personal landfill, which is possibly even more depressing than the original clutter situation. And sure, we’re all constantly bashing our toes. But it’ll all be gone in a month or three, and in the meantime I have that magazine-perfect corner over there. And I can live with that.