(c) 2012 Trina Lambert

My husband Sherman will tell you that I, a naturally disorganized person, lust for tools of organization in much of the same way as an alcoholic lusts for a drink. The good news is my addiction isn’t very destructive, even if it sometimes brings me only the buzz from the possibility of organization versus true changes that happen.

Yet, I always believe the next tool is the one that will save me. Although I have made a few breakthrough changes in my life, such as using a tickler file for bill-paying and such and utilizing a seven-basket laundry sorting system Sherman put together for me, many more schemes have fallen by the wayside.

My post-injury energy has been accelerating which allows me to return to the pursuit of organization—or at least the semblance of organization!

January has been a big month for household change, even if some of that change was hindered for a few weeks by the new dryer not working as expected. Still, getting the dryer into our home meant we had to straighten up the utility room somewhat which led to donating and/or throwing out things that had been in the way for a long time. And then, yesterday we finally purchased the matching washer—well, matching as in the same era and level of machine—to finish out our laundry upgrade.

(c) 2012 Trina Lambert

In anticipation of the two service visits for the dryer and then today’s delivery (!) of the washer, we have continued the utility room work begun before we (that would be my husband and my son) carried out the old dryer and carried in its replacement.

And we’ve sustained the fervor stirred up by the laundry changes by reevaluating our closet organization. Of course, the substantial coupons, soon-to-expire, from Sears and Lowe’s also added urgency. Although we had knocked out a wall to create a walk-in closet and one larger room for us in the months before our kids were born, we had put up with some free organizers we had never liked since that time. Hey, we gave them a chance for almost twenty years . . .

Frankly, it’s more likely that living with our two new “babies” is the real impetus for the closet project—try fitting two full-sized dog crates in a 1940s bedroom, even one made from two small rooms. At least our real babies slept in their own room!

Anyway, back to my screwdriver and the project at hand. I promised myself I could not read my much anticipated library book until we got everything back in the closet. Since Sherman isn’t home, it’s up to me to earn my time with my words. Besides, I’ve got the fever . . . the organizing fever.