The horror of another move

http://www.dreamstime.com/-image21984494I’m one of the most disorganized people you’ll ever meet, probably due to my dyslexia.  Of course, I blame everything on my dyslexia, even allergies and bad hair days.

However, most people don’t know that I am sadly clipboardorganizationally handicapped because years ago–in high school but I’m not going to tell you how long that was–I forced organization on myself by using color codes and clips and folders of neon hues and clipboards and file cabinets and, most recently, baskets.

Second only to disipline, what I hated most about teaching school was having to organize.   I usually had at least three preparation, sometimes as many as six  which meant all those sets of worksheets.   Keeping where each separate worksheet I had for each class–well, my brain was tangled by the end of the day.  I’m surprised I made it for so long.

For years, I used totes, just like Gussie Milton in my Butternut Creek toteseries:  one for school, one for church, one or two more for different groups I belonged to.  I just grabbed one as I headed out the door.

My church friends JoAnne and Ro came over last week to help pack.  For the last ten years I’ve used plastic baskets and woven baskets to keep things straight at home.   When baskets2JoAnne entered my study, she said, “I didn’t think there was anyone in the world who had more baskets than I do.”    I must have fifty or more of all sizes and shapes.   They are color coded:  purple baskets in my Kansas State study, yellow and orange baskets in the room divider in the hall which match the shower curtain in the hall bathroom,  red and blue baskets on top of the kitchen shelves because they’re pretty,  woven brown baskets in the dining/living room, and cheap white plastic baskets in the closets.

I hasten to add, I’m not compulsive.  I’m dyslexic and have not a pilessmidgen of the neatness gene.   Such handicaps require desperate measures so I don’t end upliving beneath piles of  receipts, old manuscripts, unfolded laundry, and cat toys.

How do you organize yourself?  I’d love to learn a new way.  And, if you need some, I have lots of baskets I can give you.  Just pick them up before I move.

 

6 thoughts on “The horror of another move

    1. Many thanks, Sharon. I’m not sure there is such a thing as a “happy move”–but I’ll be very happy once I get to the new place.

  1. My parents just moved into a retirement home. Due to a miscommunication (and the stubbornness of SOMEbody who refused to admit he’d made an error), they had to vacate their house very quickly. My brother, sister, and I started out very organized . . . and then just grabbed stuff and threw it into boxes which I hauled home to sort through later. My house smells like boxes that have been in a hot attic for 20 years. But oh, the treasures I’ve found . . .

    1. Would you like to come up here for a day or two? At least they had you to sort stuff later! I hagte to move and then throw things awy. You’re a good daughter.

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