I know I've mentioned before how much being organized means to me. It makes me happy, it keeps me calm, it affords me at least a measure of peace. This morning I left my apartment for work and then a mini-vacation with no dishes in the sink, dishwasher nearly empty, no clutter in the living or dining room, no laundry hanging in the bathroom, a semi-made bed, and a much-improved (although still not completely organized) bedroom and closet. I was in bed on time last night with suitcase packed and food ready and a list of last-minute items to add in the morning so I wouldn't forget them. It felt so reassuring, knowing that I didn't leave my surroundings in clutter and chaos. This wasn't the case when I went out of town two weeks ago, and I had to face the mess when I returned home, tired from the weekend activities and travel, and facing a busy week on the horizon. That did not feel reassuring. But I persevered. This homecoming will be an improvement I think. Because of organization.
librarianintx
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