Showing posts with label my whacked thought process. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my whacked thought process. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

the blinding high gloss of an organized life

As odd as it sounds, organized closets make me feel like a better person. Somewhere along the way I picked up the notion that being organized and tidy, is akin to being responsible. Maybe I heard "cleanliness is next to Godliness" too many times. Who knows.

The curious thing for me is that I am most creative in chaos. I try to keep my work bench organized. I really do. Every month or so I do a major clean up and put every thing in its place, but as soon as I sit down to work, things entropically end up strewn everywhere. I cook this way too, in a muddle of flour, butter, pots and pans.



I have realized lately that for me pandemonium spawns creativity. And yet, I continue to strive to keep things shipshape and June Cleaver clean. It is, quite frankly, an unrealistic ideal. I mean, seriously, who lives like this?


Someone with OCD no doubt.

The other funny thing is artificial nails. I have no desire whatsoever to have fake nails. Indeed, they would pop off the moment I hit the work bench, and yet, I see women with their nails all shiny and manicured and I think- man, that chick really has her shit in a pile (to use one of my little brother's phrases). The high gloss lacquer mesmerizes me. The fact of the matter is that they recently came out with a study that proved that artificial nails harbor all kinds of bacteria and disgusting stuff. And yet, if you are sporting fakies, and I see you around, I'm gonna think you really have it all together. That's just how weird I am.