Lately, I’ve been making a lot of changes in my life. One of them has been to make an attempt at getting organized. To that end, I hired a professional organizer.
Most everyone I know at all well professes astonishment. After all, when they enter my apartment, books are in neat, artful little piles, carefully arranged on the coffee table and in a wicker basket. The bed is made, clean dishes are draining in the rack. Goaded by New England Puritan parents, I pay my bills in full every month. So their response is, “Why the heck do you need an organizer, Sooz? You’re already totally organized.” (There’s another word they use, and it starts with “a,” but I’m not gonna go there.)
I’ve avoided showing them my email in-box or the two large boxes of ancient tax returns, bank statements, and other financial gradu lurking in the closet. Lori Krolik of More Time for You knows about them, because she was the one who told me to—ahem—gently suggested that I get rid of them.
So yesterday, I lost 25 ugly pounds at the local shredders and feel much better already. This past weekend, I learned to use the notes function in Outlook to consolidate all those little sticky-note lists of books to “read one day,” and so on into something lovely. Simple stuff, but powerful.
And the fun’s not over yet. The only question I have is, “What will I do with all this fabulous free time?” The answer, I think, lurks in those as-yet-unsorted notes for a long-dodged book of short stories.