Susan Spess Shay

Still playing make believe.



"Modhesh", Arabic for amazing, is th...

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I used to think I loved surprises. It was so much fun to get something I totally didn’t expect–a gift. A new friend. Surprise weather. Anything that I wasn’t waiting for made me grin.

Then I realized . . . there are some surprises I really don’t like. LOL. Like the gilflirted finger I got from feeding the hummers. And the air conditioner that died THE DAY we finally rented out our other house. And my laptop that suddenly gave up the ghost. (Fingers crossed it’ll also give up my stuff when I get a new one.) Or the water AND electric bills this summer. Oy!

But there are still happy surprises. For instance, I was going through files the other day, searching for something I didn’t find 😦 and ran onto some stuff I downloaded from the internet and “put away”. I found some great pictures I forgot I’d borrowed, too.

Maybe I should have named this blog, “Disorganized”, because some of my best surprises come from being disorganized.

I know people (G-Man could have been one if he’d married another kind of woman) who are extremely organized. So painfully organized, they know if someone has been at their desk and used a pen. Or moved a paper clip.

Everything is where it should be, and they can put their hand on it the first time they open a drawer.  Where’s the fun in that? (And what do they do with all their extra time they don’t spend hunting for stuff?)

Just think of everything they miss in life.

The thrill of the hunt. (Where are those legal papers? I just had them last week, and I know I left them on the kitchen counter. Have you seen them?)

The count down of the clock. (We’ve got to find those papers. Remember, there’s a big fine if we don’t get them in on time. They’ve got to be in the mail by midnight!)

And the thrilling drive to the post office/UPS store. (We only have an hour to get there. There’s not time to get pulled over, so don’t speed. Oh! We need gas. Well, we might have to speed just a little.)

That’s a fabrication, but not an exaggeration. While I’ve never made that midnight drive, my dad used to race into Tulsa every April 15th, then get in the long car line to get the company’s taxes in the mail on time.

So much excitement. So many surprises! (Made it! Yay!!!)

I honestly wish I were organized. I’m sure I’ve made more than one person around me nuts over the years with my disorganization. I blame it on my genes.

My mom was a great housekeeper, but when she was in a hurry (which was a lot of the time. She had six kids!) she put anything out of place in a drawer. (Or pocket.)

I have three sons, and one out of the three is very organized. The other two, not so much growing up. They might be better now. And I think their spouses are helping.

Maybe they can learn to be organized, if that’s possible. I’m not sure if being organized can be a learned behavior or not.

What do you think?