Disorganization with a System

By Allison Berman
January 19, 2010

Last week's column exploring the organizational tools I employ to compensate for being, well, not organized prompted a lot of feedback.

People recommended shrinks to help me conquer my obsessive-compulsive disorder. They asked me with disbelief if I really did everything I wrote about last week. (I do.) And my editor deemed me delusional. I assure you, I am not delusional and I am not organized. I am a recovering mess, and every day is an uphill battle to stay on the wagon.

The Friday I submitted the column in question, I left for Toronto after a crazy week, including my daughter's sixth birthday party (translation: 27 thank-you notes to write immediately, or there is no telling how long it can take me). My husband was out Monday night. And Tuesday was my daughter's 6-year-old checkup.

Wednesday, I brought cupcakes to school for my daughter's birthday, did laundry and laid out everything to pack, while simultaneously preparing to host my husband's business associate for dinner that evening. Thursday, the night before we went away, my husband was out again as I checked the packing list I referenced in the column I still had to submit to my editor.

Where's my cell phone charger?
I took out the cuff links my husband forgot and asked my older daughter to take out my husband's toiletry case, while she grabbed ours. I double-checked my daughters' case (even though I refill anything we use up upon returning home from a trip). Everything was there, and I was exhausted, so I didn't bother checking mine or my husband's (proof positive I don't need to see someone for being obsessive-compulsive). Anyway, when we got to Toronto, I discovered my cell phone charger didn't. It was inconvenient, but at least I forgot something of mine, and I could easily charge my phone in my car. Unfortunately, my husband discovered one thing after another missing from his travel case, too, including the collar stays he needed for a party. Uh-oh.

When we got home, my husband found the missing items from his toiletry case and my phone charger in the drawer, right where my toddler left them; my system didn't account for my mischievous 2-year-old.

A few days later, my column about how I struggle to be organized ran in the paper, and I was besieged by requests from "disorganized" readers to make their homes, and their lives, as organized as they perceive mine to be. But, like my "packing incident" demonstrated, I'm not organized. I just put really good systems in place to keep from being as disorganized as I have the potential to be, something anyone can do.

Next time, I am sure I will remember to check for the things I left behind, and I am just as sure I will forget something else. But I am trying my best, and I am doing beter than I ever expected. It turns out, you can teach old dogs new tricks - just don't expect miracles, because, after all, a dog is still a dog.

Allison Berman, an artist and mother of two, handpaints custom home accessories for interior designers and private customers. She works out of her home studio in Warwick, NY. See her collection at www.withlovealib.com. She can be reached at ali@withlovealib.com. Her column appears Tuesdays.