Why Must I Be Organized?

There is a huge pile of crap sitting on my desk. Bank statements, handouts from last weeks class that need to be three-holed punched, a newspaper clipping I want to send to a friend, a magazine with the perfect job opening for another friend, a tape recorder, a book I just finished reading, my cell phone, random scraps of paper with notes about current projects scribbled on them, about 8 paper tablets (a writer's best friend) and probably chocolate crumbs from the protein bars I've been eating all week.

The goal is to get the crap off the desk and organized so I can start the working week fresh tomorrow. I don't know why, but I have a block on chaos. I literally convince myself I can't work unless my desk is cleared and everything is filed, labelled, and put away. Same with the house. How can I write a word if there is laundry in the washer waiting a transfer to the dryer? How can one expect to be creative when there is dust on the end table?

Sheesh. Enough already. I kind of like the idea of being the kooky creative type who can look into a pile of debris and put her hand on the exact memo that she needs and go right on working. But I have what I call the "clean-slate syndrome." I'm convinced every project will go better if I start with a clean-slate. No little details or projects waiting to be attended. Knock the small stuff out so there is a clean-slate to focus on the big-picture items. Of course, any first year psych student can diagnose that the small stuff will never disappear, meaning the big picture projects will forever be pushed off.

Is therapy the answer? Chocolate? Or maybe I just forbid myself from clearing off my desk for a week and see what comes of it. I'll consider that. Next week. When I can start the messy desk experiment with a clean slate.