My spices are in alphabetical order. I'm not bragging when I say that. Bragging about alphabetized spices would be weird. I tell you that so as you read the rest of this post, you'll have a basic understanding of who I really am. And then you won't judge me, because you'll be able to say to yourself, "Well, at least her spices are alphabetized."
Order is my happy place. If you are reading this and you are my mom or a former college roommate you may beg to differ. But in my early adult years I gained a fondness for, or perhaps an obsession for, all things organized. For fun I read books on organizing, and helped friends gain control of a closet or kitchen, I even taught a few classes on effective organization. But somewhere between kid one and kid three I lost control. And now instead of a place for everything and everything in its place, I work at just controlling the chaos.
Most days my couch is buried under a pile of laundry that needs to be folded, or worse, already folded and needs to be put away. The kitchen counter is often littered with piles: the recycling pile, the school work pile, the things that need to go to the basement pile, the dishes pile, the to do pile, the done pile, and my personal favorite - the 'Audrey's current art project' pile. Luckily, we have a lot of counter space. The stairs can be a navigational nightmare too. The bottom steps are a catch-all for kids shoes, and sometimes my shoes, and things like recently purchased bath products that I'm too lazy to walk ALL the way upstairs to put away. These hazards are usually avoided by staying far to the right or by taking one giant step over the first three stairs. Funny thing is, these methods work so well for us and I don't remember them ever being mentioned as a solution in any of the books I read.
Last night as we were getting ready for bed, Jon asked which pile was the dirty clothes. He's been wrong before and this time he wanted to get it right. Apparently the difference isn't clear between the clean and needs to be put away pile and the dirty and needs to be washed pile. But as he went to throw his clothes in the direction I pointed I hurriedly redirected, "No, not THAT pile, that pile is the clothes I'm going to wear tomorrow."
Remember, my spices are alphabetized.
