I’ve never been very good at organizing anything- not my possessions, not my time and not my life. At school my desk was a mess, my locker was a mess and my backpack was a mess.  If you opened  any of them you would be met with a jumble of papers, folders, pencils, brushes and god knows what other objects. Those objects would often cascade to the floor and form a haphazard pile, prompting a frustrated but resigned sigh from me. One of my teachers labeled me the queen of disorganization.

Things haven’t been any better for me at home or anywhere else for that matter. My bedroom is usually in a state of disarray, my bathroom is usually in a state of disarray and I generally leave a trail of chaos wherever I go. Once I hit adolescence the jumble of items I kept and carried in a disorganized heap started to include money and tampons. My manual dexterity and attention are as impaired as my organization so I continue to drop my belongings on the floor on a regular basis, often in public. Dropping a tampon on the floor in public is pretty embarrassing but honestly it’s happened to me so many times that at this point it barely fazes me.

As you can  imagine, my disorganization has been rather frustrating for the people who are forced to live with me.  I’ve never lived with any extreme neat freaks (if I did I imagine I wouldn’t be writing this blog right now because one of those neat freaks would have murdered me) and most of my relatives are pretty organizationally impaired themselves.  Yet even the organizationally impaired tend to demand a certain level of order. I’ve discovered that dirty clothes all over the floor tend to push people past their tolerance limits. Wet towels on the floor are even less appreciated.

Being disorganized is pretty frustrating for me too. I’m constantly losing my possessions. I have about 101 brushes but when I need to brush my hair I have trouble locating even one of them  Asking where I last had my lost possession doesn’t help because if I knew that it wouldn’t be lost but sometimes praying to St. Anthony does.

I have all the free time in the world and yet I never seem to find time to do all the things I want to do in a day because I’m so bad at organizing my time. Time escapes me so easily and everything always ends up taking more time than I anticipate it taking.  I’ve yet to start certain blog posts I figured I would have finished about six months ago.

Everyone tells me I’m a good writer but in college I would have meltdowns over papers because I had such a hard time organizing my thoughts. When it comes to organizing social events such as parties, forget about it. Luckily I have some more organized friends who have stepped up to the plate for me there, as my family is just as useless as I am in that department.

A lot of people seem to think I’m disorganized because I just don’t give a damn and that I could become organized if I chose to. It’s really not as simple as that though. I think my brain is wired in a way that makes me and organization incompatible.

It would be nice to be organized but I’m afraid I’m never going to achieve that big O. I can’t even fake it.  Daily Prompt: Organize 

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