I can’t find it.
sigh I am a living Steven Wright joke.
I can’t find it.
sigh I am a living Steven Wright joke.
A whole magazine devoted to just that?
There, there, dear. It happens to the best of us. Look on the bright side - at least you’re not living a Richard Pryor joke.
Eh.
I was gonna buy a book an how to moyivate myself, but I haven’t gotten around to it.
I have the wierdest feeling of deja vu
While at the supermarket I saw a booklet for sale on the topic of procrastination.
I wonder how many people decided they’d buy it the next time they stopped in…
It’s over there on the table under yesterday’s mail.
NO! Not there! That’s last week’s mail.
You see that box of what-fors that I picked up around the house? It’s right next to that.
No, not that box. That’s the Fourth of July decorations.
Never mind, I’ll get it.
Here. It was right on top of last year’s tax returns.
Sheesh!
Sorry, but catagorical piles? That sounds like you have successfully applied the principles of organization.
I might have you beat, I bought a whole book on organizing. I keep losing it. Then I actually get around to cleaning a spot in the living room and find it again then I set it where I can find it because I need to get around to finish reading it. Then I promptly lose it again.
I think what I really need is a round tuit.
Well, it could very well be. I wouldn’t know just yet, though.
Cinnamon Girl, was that you in my house? I was wondering where that strange looking pair of bunny slippers came from. Thought it was just the dust accumulating in a utilitarian pattern.
I’m almost positive I put it on the stove. And hopefully moved it to the dry sink before cooking. But it’s not there. It’s not anywhere. Just poof.
Maybe that’s how it works? It hides itself in your home forcing you to start cleaning and organizing in order to find it. So that means it will be in the last place you look.
My dog chewed up a book I got called, “Solving Your Dog’s Behavioural Problems.”
The local VFD also sent out a booklet on fire safety, but before I could read it, it was destroyed when the house burned down.
My copy of “Housekeeping for Dummies” is covered by a thick layer of dust.
I got a book called, “Improving Your Memory” from the library. It’s overdue, but I keep forgetting to return it.
My “Low Fat and Cholesterol Free Cookbook”? I think it’s under that bag of cookies.
In college, I had a textbook for a philosophy course on ethics. It got stolen.
Something tells me the boy child could be the answer to your question.
I know when things disappear around here that they usually turn up under the girl’s bunk beds.
**Podkayne **you should do stand-up. Those are great.
Why, yes. I am organized. Just ignore all the mess and please don’t look like that. I know where everything is. It’s somewhere in this house. Underneath all the other stuff.
All kidding aside, I have organization in my heart, but only barely enough motivation to actually carry it out efficiently. My house is a plain fucking disaster area. We’re talking gigantic clutter proportions here. I hate it. I think there’s not a book on the planet that would help me.
To me, true organization would be actually filing those tax returns and throwing away the junk mail instead of leaving them in neat organized piles on the table (which we never get to use), on the floor, in a box, etc.
Hah! That was my house, silly! Well, at least I’m not alone.
Aside: Last night in a fit of pique, I cleaned out the area around my dryer and retrieved enough lint to create a whole new wardrobe!
Just put your mixed-paper recycling container near the mailbox. Nearly all of my mail goes directly into the box. It’s great.
There’s a book I’ve been wanting to read. But every library I’ve tried to get it from, including my companies in-house improvement library, has it listed as missing, presumed lost. It’s Speed Reading.
Here’s a surefire way to locate it: Go out and buy a new one. I guarantee you the first copy will turn up not long after that. It’s a Murphy’s law or something.
Aha! I found it. I spied a corner of it face down underneath the dry sink. It wasn’t there before. Oh no. It was not. It was just playing games with me, laughing at what it knows to be a totally futile attempt on my part at organization. Taunting me with its pages of bins and shelves and rolled-up color-coordinated bath towels neatly arranged in a built-in glass-encased towel shrine.
I know it may never happen, but dammit, a woman can have her dreams, can’t she?
Cinnamon Girl, I think we are soul sisters. I can be so organized at work and with schedules and, really and truly, I have a decent amount of skills and talents, but personal organization? I seem to be missing that gene. But I will not give up. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the clutter of my home, I will fear no junk; for I have Simply Perfect Storage [sup]tm[/sup] with me, it comforts me.