“I appreciate your sense of order,” he said. I had to laugh.
I’d just given Ben a haircut, and as he reached for one of the towels hanging on the rack, I had stopped him.
“Why don’t I get you a non-white towel, huh?” And I had laughed at his response because it was completely lacking in sarcasm or mockery -- which is usually what follows one of my minor Monica Gellar moments.
I am particular, it’s true. Tease me about my closet and its ROYGBIV rainbow arrangement and I won’t care. I also appreciate my sense of order. I happen to like structure.
But for the last little while, circumstances being what they are, my apartment has been following the universe's natural law of increasing disorder. And when I walked through the door yesterday evening, dropping my bag in the hall, my stomach gave an unpleasant lurch.
“We seem to be experiencing a bit of entropy here, Cat,” I said. “What’re we gonna do about it?”
I started with the junk mail, then moved to the dishes. I re-hung the clothes that were draped over a chair. I vacuumed scant traces of kitten fur off the couch, mopped the bathroom floor, refolded and rehung those decorative white towels. I went around the apartment gathering books. Brooklyn Noir at the bedside, Helen Fielding’s latest on the ottoman, Michener’s Iberia on the edge of the tub.
Nothing is ever dirty, but lately, everything just seems… out of order.
I’ve always maintained that the state of my apartment will give you an enormous insight into the general state of my life. The empty fridge will tell you that I’m broke. The forgotten snack foods in the cupboard will tell you I’m too antsy to eat anyway. Clutter, in all of its forms will tell you, in absolutely no uncertain terms, that I’m cluttered in my brain. That I’m stressed out.
So last night, I paid the bills. I made lists, bought groceries, and made decisions. I’m going to start cooking again and writing on a schedule. Planning for Morocco. And most importantly, I’m going to start giving myself a break once in a while.
I could stand to learn a lesson or two about appreciating my sense of disorder as well.
About Morocco....
You have to do a camel trek into the desert. My husband and I were going to go there for our honeymoon, but our plans got botched last year because we were supposed to go a week after the Casablanca bombings. Anyway, there is a fabulous camel trekking company in the south, run by a man named Ali. Best of all, you ride a camel named Jimmi Hendrix. JIMMI HENDRIX.
I had my whole trip planned out, so i'd be happy to share info. Out of it all, I was most upset about never meeting the rocking camel.
Posted by: katie at August 13, 2004 11:47 AMFish for a minute I thought I was reading about my place! Ditto on the disorder thing although I haven't gotten farther than dishes, laundry (and putting it away) and bills so far.
Posted by: akaellen at August 13, 2004 12:46 PMIn Morocco, who ISN'T named Ali?
Fish, I don't even know you, but reading your blog is like reading a novel-- a novel in which I really like the main character and wish the best for her.
Posted by: janna at August 13, 2004 12:56 PMFishie -
You usually write things that although your life isn't exactly like mine, at least I can identify with you enough to attempt to understand and even empathize with you.
Today though, today you just called me out on my inner Monica. If my bf had read this, he'd seriously high-five you. I am SO Monica too, it's just wrong.
Posted by: angie at August 13, 2004 01:43 PMI can TOTALLY relate with you on this one. Why is it that we keep things in such orders to help us with our lives, but as soon as we really need the order to help us, it's gone. I find that when I get stressed, my order diminishes. But then I get stressed about the lack of order. Vicious cycle. Damn OCD anyway.
Posted by: Carrie at August 13, 2004 02:22 PMI'm so Monica Gellar it's not even funny. Talk about OCD. I can totally relate to you. TOTALLY.
Posted by: teacher lady at August 13, 2004 03:31 PMOrder is better than disorder--after all, you wouldn't want to end up getting stuck to the sofa after sitting on it for six years?
Posted by: Frankenstein at August 13, 2004 04:03 PMA place for everything, everything in its place. When it's not, I am *so* like your last post.
Posted by: Diane at August 13, 2004 10:57 PManother monica gellar, here and out of the closet. i'd never thought to call my certain need for order after a tv character, but it works. it works in the best way. yes!!
Posted by: mickey at August 14, 2004 10:12 AMI always strive for order.
I never quite make it.
My closet is meant to be arranged: Suits, Work Shirts, Casual/Trendy Shirts, Causal/Trendy Jeans & Trousers, Other.
My draws are meant to be: Funky T Shirts, T Shirts, Underwear, Shorts and gym stuff.
Posted by: Adrian at August 16, 2004 09:43 AM