Miss Organized.

This morning while stopped at a red light, I glanced out the bus window into the cab of a pick-up truck idling next to us.  Dangling from the rear-view mirror was an assortment of chains and shoelaces, each attached to an item the driver obviously felt he needed to reach at a moment's notice.  He had a pen, a roll of duct tape, a compass, a calculator, an EZ Pass, and a duck call (no joke.)  I nodded approvingly and thought, 'That's my kind of organizational system.'  Growing up I always felt more comfortable if everything I could possibly need was visible to me at all times.  This is a a very poor justification for being messy, but I am, and always have been.  I know just where that sweater/belt/scarf is, because it's right here on the floor in front of me, balled up in a space-saving fashion, ready to be shaken out and worn. 

Being naturally sloppy, myself, I'm perpetually envious of people whose lives are organized to a 't.'  I can't even get past 'a' when it comes to shuffling, filing, categorizing, and storing away.  I'd love to be the type of gal who can open up her purse and procure a needle and thread or an antiseptic towlette or a rainbow of assorted mints, but that just isn't me.  God forbid you should cut your finger while in my company because the best you're going to get is a crumpled, half-open Band-Aid (peppered with specks of loose tobacco) from the bottom of my bag.  Oh, wait, here's some tape, you can kind of wrap that around the Band-Aid where the adhesive's worn off...and an old bus change card.  Do you need that for anything?  Hey!  A piece of Double Bubble!  I'll just keep that for later...

Maybe someday I'll buckle down and hire someone to put my life in order (perhaps even in closets and drawers) but probably not any time soon.  For the time being I will just tie my credit card to a shoelace and hope for the best.