Attacking the Office

Due to forces beyond my control (thank you, technology), I am still in between gigs. I’ve visited the Old Hometown and have written up a storm. I’ve done editing work for my friends’ creative endeavors. I have no more excuses. I have to clean up my office. Among other things, there are some important documents I need to lay my hands on.

I have the organizational sense of a two year old on crack. I lose important documents with a regularly that frightens me. But I’ve learned a few things in my thirty-mumble years. When I first went freelance I presented myself with the following challenge:

Get everything in a place so that you can find random documents, whether it was a poem draft from college or a utility bill from a few months ago.

And let me tell you, comrades, I succeeded. But that was four years ago. I learned that I needed to have everything visible: a full shelf of magazine files, labeled. I have office supplies in fifteen little drawers, boxes, cups, and containers around my office because I don’t mind taking an extra two minutes to find binder clips and I have structurally unsound coffee mugs that I am emotionally attached to.

Old notebooks are in the back of my closet where no one will go. Unused notebooks are on a shelf awaiting my brilliance. It’s not Homes and Gardens, but I can see my floor. I never found the important document (eek, trying not to think about that), but I found some old poem drafts, a few letters, and a great picture of my dad. I can locate the style guide for a former client, the license for my dog, and my notebooks from grad school in thirty seconds or less.

Anyone want to place a bet on how long that will last?


9 responses to “Attacking the Office

  1. I must be your three-year old older sibling with a bipolar disorder. I go from a manic need to organize the hell out of everything (usually out of the need to make my neat freak husband happy) into a fit of despair where I just want to throw it all out…if I could get off the floor and remove my forearm covering my eyes.
    The paper will turn up. Just stop looking for it.

  2. I’m really not a writer, am I? I am very paper organized. Can find any document at a moment’s notice. The secret: open literature sorter with file labels so I can easily throw papers in it and see them. Easy. But I’m a lazy slob with everything else. Pathetically so. If I fell down the stairs I might hesitate to call 911. I’d have to weigh the pain against the embarassment. Slob.

  3. Well, we’ll have to drive our car until it just won’t go anymore because I can’t find the title anywhere.

    So we seem to be just green and frugal, but really it’s green, frugal, lazy, and disorganized. A wonderful combination!

    Paper organization gives me a very special kind of anxiety. A sort of shivery creeping feeling up the back of my neck.

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