Much to the chagrin of my slightly-OCD husband, I am not an organized person (Don't feel too bad for him, he knew what he was getting into when he married me). Even a small amount of clutter drives him a little nuts, but I just don't notice it. It doesn't compute in my brain that a few catalogs, some boxes and a borrowed pot on the table equals a mess. (Probably because when I lived at home, the floor of my room was usually knee-deep with clothes, books, and various papers. See, honey, I'm so much better than I was!)
There is one exception to the chaos that is me: my closet.
Yes, my closet is color coded. It's the one area of my life that actually has some organization. I tell myself it just makes it easier to find things, but really, there is a (tiny) part of me that cries out for order, neatness and the American Way! My closet makes that tiny sorter fall over in relief and joy.
(No guarantees that all of my clothes are actually IN the closet. Usually they hang out in the clean laundry basket until I wear them. I'm working on that. But when they ARE put away, there is order.)
Can you imagine the reaction of that poor neglected organizer inside my head when Natalie linked to this?
"Oooh, it's nice. Such tidiness. Such harmony. Look how lovely it is! I bet we could do that to everything! Come on, you know you want to..."
So I indulged my inner neat-freak and went over to The Art of Clean Up. And that's where the real trouble started.
"The STARS? We could clean up the STARS! THE STARS MUST BE SORTED! MUAH HAHAHA!"
Awesome. Now my internal unclutterer is a psychopath who wants to take over the world. I guess she's been repressed for way too long - the closet just isn't enough of an outlet anymore.
Go check out the pictures, and then watch the HILARIOUS artist, Ursus Wehrl, at TED, and then tell me YOUR inner neat freak doesn't become a little unbalanced.