The very basic definition of organise is to arranged or structured in a systematic way.
I step into our apartment, hoping to find it the way I left it. The way I would like it to be when I get back home. I just want to plonk myself on the sofa and surf thru’ the TV channels on a friday night and drift off to sleep. I have been waiting for days to do this. Just to have the sofa for myself and feel the power of holding the TV remote.
My ideal place to relax and unwind will be where the cushions are in their place straight against the backrest of the sofa. No coffee mugs on the coffee table. Yes, its the coffee table but only for the mugs with freshly made tea, we are tea drinking people. Not for mugs with tea stains drying up and definitely not for wrappers of chocolate, a piece of biscuit, the several remote controls, the pair of reading glasses and the laptop.
Who wouldn’t wish to smell the fresh white linen and a get into a neatly made bed, with the pillows set up straight against the headboard and the cushions not slouching. The crispness of the sheets and warmth of the inviting bed brought a smile to my lips when I was going no more that 2km/hr in peak hour traffic.
My lips did not form a smile, instead they pushed out a tiny “oh” as I stepped into our apartment.
Bemusement spread across my face as I looked at the living room and saw it is pretty much untouched. A part of me was prepared to find the remote controls spread all over the sofa, they were on the sofa, not all over though.
This space however, looked tidy.
My husband mumbles something about ‘being the polly’ who always turns on the kettle or a “cinderella” who is always cleaning and scrubbing. Okay. That I have learnt to live with. I have failed to understand why or how it is difficult to keep a house tidy and a desk organised – IF and only IF anything used, reaches its home or where it’s taken out from after being used. “Put the book back on the bookshelf after you have finished reading it please “. Is to so hard to follow?
Walking up to hang up my keys on the key holder, I peek into the guest bed room and see it; the laundry still folded on one side of the bed. How does the laundry have a magical ability to breed quicker than it is washed or worn. This particular pile, some folded and many still on hangers has been on spot for days. To be fair, it has been status quo these days but I am desperate to get it cleared away.
“Do you mind putting your folded washing inside your wardrobe for me please?”
“I can surely do that.” comes a quick reply, and a “but not just now” a little delayed.
“Don’t let that bother you. Just let it sit there and I’ll know where to pick it from when I it need it.”
It sounds crazy to anyone who hasn’t been driven mad by the laundry monster. I struggle to hold back the tears and the words that are bouncing in my head.
Why do I always take it so personally? So where do we go from here?
I hate to share the sofa with the remote controls. So I just pick a random one and put away the rest on the coffee table before I plonk myself on the sofa.
I am surfing whatever channels that particular remote changes and I’m thinking – Just for a change I wish that laundry didn’t bother me.
I don’t even dare to think about the home office that my husband is tucked into and his desk. He says ” Organised people are too lazy to look for things”. I don’t understand that.
We can’t always get what we want though, so I force it. I force a smile, I force my mind to think of the many memories that we have created together and the laughter that we have shared. I bite my tongue, and arrange with myself a cry-date for another day.
Sometimes, even maybe most of the time, one of us has to give in that much more and learn to be expect less. I am still in the process of learning to “let go”.