The Missing Dress .. some blogs are timeless and this is one of them.
Being disorganized is not for the faint of heart.
Not knowing where I put that bill that’s overdue … trying to find my keys and my phone is such a pain, but how do I lose a dress? It has to be in the closet or the laundry, right?
Ok, so I forgot about my luggage. I know, an organized person would have unpacked it all a month ago when I got home from my last trip! Nope, not there either, hmmm looking through all the drawers was senseless, I would never put a dress in a dresser… Hey, a dress in a dresser, good one eh? I know, this was for my granddaughter’s benefit she has taken to reading my blogs.
The elusive dress must be in ‘purgatory’ that place that’s inhabited by all of the single socks from my clothes dryers along with all the other stuff I can’t find when I want it.
I decide on plan B and wear the dress I wore yesterday, I know where THAT one is, right beside my bed where I took it off. I love polyester, it never wrinkles. Now why did this great material get such a bum rap in the seventies? Did you know that a polyester bathing suit will never die?
It’s true, I have one that I have been wearing for at least 10 years. This is my backup suit for the pool in my condo, which destroys every bathing suit I buy. The new ones last a couple of months, tops. I go to the pool every morning for aqua fit class, alright.. so it is me with my iPod and good intentions for a grueling workout, which works for me : )
This backup suit is a brand name, Nike the innards are shredded but hanging in there, they weren’t made of polyester. This suit is still a deep blue and ugly as sin, but no one uses the pool in the early morning so I don’t care. Now where was I hmm… oh, right I was looking for my dress.
I write things down, on every scrap of paper I can find. Sometimes if it is really important I will jot it down on my hand, the inside part, I do have a little class. I would never write it where everyone can see but, sometimes I wash my hands a couple of times and I forget.. ah well, shit happens.
Organized people (and you know who you are) really need to have compassion for those of us that are lacking organizational skills. I have recently thought about this and have come to the conclusion that you must be a happier more contented lot, you get to have ‘guilt-free’ leisure time and much more of it as well.
For instance, you would have that extra 10 minutes that I just wasted looking for a dress that’s obviously in purgatory. You wouldn’t have spent an hour at the motor vehicles branch sorting out the lapsed insurance on your car and then trying to find out where you sent that online payment to.
You would have that paper bill in hand with the amount on it! I know it was more than a thousand but less than twelve hundred, turns out it was 1108.00. Oh hell, what do you mean my condo insurance has lapsed too? Well, the upside is that everything will be due now in May when I have access to my mail and a phone, and not in January when I am away in some other Country escaping these frigid winters.
Being organized has got to be what heaven will feel like. Being able to find whatever you want whenever you want it. That was a powerful statement, even just writing it down gives me a shiver down my spine. I can only dream.
I admire organized people and I sincerely mean it, even if I do make fun of them sometimes. I am secretly envious. Their clothes will never see purgatory. The best bonus though is when they have free time, it really is FREE. A disorganized person will never have that, because, well you know why…
epilogue: I did find that elusive dress, it was at the end of my bed, the side I don’t sleep on, under some folded laundry. Good thing it is polyester, it is where I took it off but the folded laundry on top did not make it into my drawers. Maybe I will find that paper copy of my driver’s license that needs to be renewed by tomorrow. Why didn’t I take care of that while I was at the motor vehicles and insurance place this week? damn.
Ah well, guess I’ll go meet my cousin at the farmers market, there is nothing here that can’t wait for another day…..
observations: I don’t make stuff up, I don’t have to. Shit happens to me all the time and wherever I am, which is fortunate in a way because I get to write about it.