The Neat Freak

Every year around this time the organization bug bites me (guess it's better than the cold bug, puke bug, or flu bug). I don't know if it's the always-too-long winter of being stuck inside staring at the same four walls, or a prelude to the spring that is right around the corner and the cleaning that will go along with it. But it's always the same. I have this urge to purge, to clean out, throw away, organize, change around. This week I have cleaned up and reorganized my "studio" (I always have to put that in quotes because it is not my term, but a dear friend's) and my overflow craft closet (no small feat). I have thrown out, recycled, and set aside a box to drop off at my LSS (they donate unwanted craft items to local Boys and Girls clubs, and schools--love that). As I write this I am thinking about the pantry, cleaning, linen, and toiletry closets that could all use an overhaul. I have a disease. I tell people that I need to be organized so that I can find things because I am just not smart enough to remember where I put things (I still manage to lose stuff, though not nearly as often as Perry). I tell myself that it's important for the toys to be in labeled bins on the shelves so that the boys can be self-sufficient in cleaning up their things (yet, somehow I am the one to clean up the playroom 97 times out of 100). So why then have I spent hours with Logan and Camden alphabetizing their Pokemon cards? Not so I can teach them how to put things in ABC order. No, because I am a freak. Why have I painstakingly separated tiny Legos by type into compartmentalized drawers. Because I am a freak. Why do some people get hand cramping from texting their friends, and I get it from using my label maker? Because I am a freak. This is feeling very therapeutic for me right now. I am feeling the beginnings of a breakthrough, a healing of sorts. Isn't admission the first of the 12 steps? Ah, this feels great. Now I am off to put my markers back into rainbow colored order.