So there I was. Giggling to myself like a stupid idiot because it's cold outside for the first time since summer ended and there are leaves falling off the trees and the Swedish blood in me gets really happy and excited whenever the weather gets cold. Anyway, I'm all excited and grinning like a stupid fool, cuddling in blankets and deciding what to get people for Christmas. Then I decide I want my slippers (the ultimate sign that Fall us upon us). I love my slippers. They are big and warm, and have rubber on the bottom so I can walk outside while wearing them, and they come over the back of my feet so they stay on. They're wonderful. And I wanted them.
So I go to my bedroom to get them, laughing to myself and dancing around on the inside. FALLFALLFALLFALL!!! Inside my bedroom, I've got a shoe hanger thing on the back of my door. That's where my slippers had been for the past six months. Nope. Not there. Not anywhere. I searched and searched with nothing to show for my efforts, except that I found a few things that I used to love, and although they're useless to me now they still hold some amount of sentimental attachment. That was mildly amusing, but my feet were still cold.
The worst part is, I distinctly remember at the end of last winter, putting my slippers somewhere and saying to myself, "I am going to put these in a special place so I will remember where they are so I will have them next year when my feet get cold after this cursed summer is finally over!" I put them in a place so special and secret that even I can't find it!!
And that's just one example of many. Hundreds. Thousands. Hundreds of thousands. Examples aplenty. I won't tell you about all of them. That would make a very long and boring blog.
I think I need a list. Yes, a list of all my secret hiding places where I put my stuff. But then, what if I lose the list? I need a list to tell me where the list is. But then where does the chain end? It'll end up like that song. "There's a germ on the flea on the hair on the wart on the frog on the knot on the log in the hole in the bottom of the sea..." only it'll be a list and it'll go,
"There's a pen in a pot in a box in a crate in a chest in the dark in a room in the middle of my basement..."
Maybe I just need to not hide my stuff like a raccoon. But then I lose it. What am I supposed to do? Not have cool stuff? That's an idea. I know what you're thinking, "But Jo, a place for everything and everything in it's place." Yeah, well guess what? Some people aren't OCD about having a place for e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g in the world. Some people actually think about things other than keeping the world clean and being a slave to their neatness. I'm free, thank you very much. Free to take off an article of clothing at the end of the day and throw it up in the air and let it stay wherever it lands. Free to climb into a messy bed at night and curl up into a snug little nest, not having to worry about sleeping like a board so I don't mess up the sheets while I sleep.
It also means I'm free to lose my stuff and spend three months scouring the house for whatever it is, only to become frustrated to the point of buying a new one (Like how I just bought new slippers this afternoon). But you know what? I think it's a good trade. It's more fun and relaxing than spraying 409 on everything I touch and breaking into a cold sweat whenever I see someone step onto my carpet with their shoes on. Good grief. Lighten up, wouldja?
That being said, I don't think we should all be trashy and throw our stuff everywhere and be dirty and live like pigs. No. Please do not misunderstand. To an extent, we should all be tidy and orderly. Admittedly, I do fall short there sometimes. BUT! Throwing a shirt on the floor once and a while is OKAY!! Having a water fight with your little/big brother every now and then is OKAY!! BEING MESSY SOMETIMES IS OKAY!!!! Hooray! :D
*Cue dramatic Scottish William Wallace battle cry* FRREEEEEEDOOOOOM!!!
(Though sometimes I do wish I could find stuff...)