Thursday, November 18, 2010

The Pile

      I think I need to get organized
       I love organization. I enjoy watching those shows that turn a cluttered home into a neat freaks dream. I can't help it. When my house is clean I breath a sigh of relief. It feels wonderful. Now, am I organized? Nope. I struggle with it every single stinking day. I make tons of lists and try to follow them religiously or else I find myself in a huge stressed-filled quandry. I walk up the stairs to my sons room with the trepidation of a horror movie character who is afraid to open the closet door. I cover my mouth to muffle the over-acted scream. Then I clean up what I can.  I start on one end of the house and by the time I get to the other end; the first part of the house is in shambles. I try not to let it get to me. It's life right? I mean who wants to live in a museum? I mean no one right? However, every now and again something in the house starts to irritate me like some hideous summer rash. It started a few weeks ago with the pile (of whatever the heck the pile is made up of ) on my husband's side of the bureau. It's starts off with some loose mail. Then perhaps change and a small box or two then a series of folders filled with work papers. Whatever the heck it is I can't touch it. We have long ago learned not to move each others things. So a few weeks ago I asked him if he could just put the stuff away.
"Sure Hon, I will"
Days pass and the pile gets taller.
"Hey um, you think you could put that stuff away?"
"Sure Hon."
Days pass
"Seriously, I'm getting tired of looking at that pile. Could you pleasssssse put it away?"
"Sure Hon."
Days pass.
"If you don't put away that crap I swear I'm gonna take it out back and burn it... hear me? BURN IT!"
"Don't worry about it Hon, Its not in the way just leave it alone"
OK, we reached an impasse. I guess threatening to throw it into a fire pit was a bit rash but what should I say? I asked nicely, I said please. I don't want to put it away myself because that defeats the whole purpose of personal responsibility. Hum, time for (he doesn't read this blog so its OK) psychological warfare!
Every time I passed the pile I fixed it so that it tilted a bit to the right. Why, you ask? Well, every time he went in to retrieve socks , t-shirt or underwear the slight shaking of the bureau would cause the pile to fall. Every time the papers came flying off a slightly evil grin appeared on my face. I know I know. That's not very Christian of me. I said I am a believer I didn't say I was perfect. This went on for two days. Finally this morning I walked out of the shower and the pile was gone. I walked over and gave him a hug. I did feel a pang of guilt. I then meditated and prayed for a few minutes (aakk the guilt )and then off I went to go upstairs to collect the laundry. On my Son's bed was a huge pile of books and papers he threw there while he searched for his library book. I came downstairs and told my husband about the huge mess in our son's room.....I swear I thought I saw an evil little grin on my husband's face. It was probably just my guilt tugging at me. But again could he have?.... nooooooo.........well may be. I spent the next ten minutes cleaning a pile that suspiciously had my husband grinning from ear to ear............drats foiled again.

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