The other day I pulled a notebook out of my office desk and somehow launched a pen out of the drawer like a small missile. Maybe it seems like a small deal, probably because it is, but it is just an opening salvo in the war I wage, and lose, with my organizational skills.
While my desk at work is relatively safe, minus the occasional pen launch, my home desk drawers are stuffed with who knows what, layers and layers that will one day be processed like an archaeological expedition. “As we can see from this level of the middle drawer, the subject went to CVS to buy cold medicine last October. Diving deeper into the past we find a ticket stub for a movie that hasn’t been in theaters for over a year.” My desk drawers end up turning into my own accidental time capsules if left unchecked long enough. The real danger is when there is something sharp jammed in there for some reason (an uncapped pen, a piece of plastic with a broken edge, etc). Why would I stick it in there at time, I have no idea, but I am sure it seemed like a good idea at the time for whatever reason. Honestly, the time capsule aspect of my lack of organizational skills is fine, but if I could stop booby-trapping the drawers accidentally, that’d be great.
And I have no doubt this mess of stuff is a semi-decent reflection of my chaotic mind. Nothing is filed properly, some drawers are so crammed full that they no longer open, and of course there is the occasional danger of depression lurking in the darkness, waiting to stab me and pierce me with its melancholy.
Organizing my desk, like organizing my thoughts, might be great at first, but eventually, inevitably, it reverts back into messiness again. I just have to learn to accept it, and accept the small victories of removing a few of the booby-traps that await me (so that new ones can of course be added later).
What are some of the things you have buried in the desk drawers of your mind?