Vindication!

A confession: I have always been a messy person. Despite that, I can generally find what I'm looking for quickly, but to anyone else, that pile on my table probably looks like nothing more than chaos. 

But last weekend, hurrah, the Globe and Mail ran an article (with the beautiful image above on the newspaper's front page) about how such habits aren't really so terrible at all. 

One of the instances author of the article Mark Pupo cites in his defense of clutter is that of the overprotective parent wanting to ensure their child's room is clean clean clean. My dad gave that a try, but clearly, he failed. About the only thing he accomplished was making me cry. 

Recently I've been working on a poem about my messiness, kind of an apology I suppose. It starts with the words, "If Marie Kondo came to my office, she would probably cry."

Only it turns out that even the 'only-keep-items-that-bring-you-joy Marie' has had a turn of heart. What happened? She had kids, and oh gosh, but sometimes kids make a mess. Yeah. 

And in my case, even some of us supposed grown-ups do too. Happy face time. 

Getting a start on good intentions

Probably everyone has a catch-all site they call the junk drawer. It's that place where things with no particular spot of their own gather together, often in shame.

It's no different at our house, and as you can see, our collection of odds and sods was starting to overgrow its home.

For a year when I plan (okay, hope may be the more truthful word) to do a bunch of decluttering, though not on the scale of any Marie Kondo white dreams, I figure I've made a pretty good start.