Ohhh, organization. It’s a funny word, isn’t it? I think it is THE official go-to adjective on every resume. It’s such a general term that everyone can relate to in some way. After all, what employer doesn’t love an “ORGANIZED” employee? A disheveled mess doesn’t exactly have the word success plastered on it.

I’m pretty sure my current resume houses this fancy little word. Actually, who am I kidding, I’m positive it does. Funnily enough, if you looked at my desk right now you would probably stamp the word “LIAR” on my forehead. I am a post-it note freak. That should tell the whole story.

In my defense, I DO consider myself organized. I am mentally organized. I can juggle many tasks at work, prioritize them in my brain, mentally check what has been done vs. what is outstanding AND give a DETAILED (another resume classic) account of where we stand. My desk does not mirror my brain however, and my house? It’s a close relative to my desk.

I will be the first to admit that my disorganization is a result of sheer laziness. I leave my clothes on the bench at the end of my bed. Why? Because walking to the closet, opening it, finding a hanger and scooping my pants on to it is a mental Mt. Everest. Can’t do it. Not in the moment at least. Instead, I let the clothes pile and every 3rd day or so I can’t take it anymore and I go on a hanging spree.

I thank my mother for instilling in me the hatred for a messy space. This gives me hope that SOMEDAY I can overcome my disease of disorganization. And in the meantime, keeps my house decent and livable.

When I moved into my house when I got married, I was in over my head. Organizing 2,000 square feet? Are you kidding? I could BARELY keep my head above water in my 10×10 bedroom. My mom gave me this tiny bit of advice, on which I have decided to base my very first blog post: Everything should have a home. Simple. Enlightening.

Now, if you are a truly organized person, you’re probably thinking this girl has a lot to learn. But if you are like me, and your pants from yesterday are still lingering at the end of your bed, and the mail that is important but not really THAT important is hanging out on your kitchen counter, then I’m sure you feel a little enlightened.

This is, and continues to be a work in progress. A year and a half later, I am still slowly working at giving everything a proper “home,” and items that I can’t seem to appropriately place, I try to give away or throw away. As for the kinda-but-not-really-important mail- that is currently in my pantry in cute metal mail bins, one with my name on it, the other with my husband’s (yes, written on post-it notes. Some habits die hard).

I recently decided this practice will be best employed if taken one room at a time. Genius, right? I started with my living room. Why you ask? Because that’s the room most outsider’s see, obviously, and because I almost killed myself about a month ago falling over a baby toy. Code red hazard.

My mom bought my daughter a pink canvas bin that is embroidered with “baby things” that perfectly houses my daughter’s little collection of toys. She also helped me organize her changing table, and I devoted a half hour to placing items on my mantel that compliment each other.

The little drawers in the front of my TV stand are filled with NetFlix envelopes, stray DVDs, my Apple TV, and other TV related nick-nacks. How creative of me!

My husband refinished the china cabinet I inherited from my great aunt, which MADE me remove everything from its shelves. It was so beautiful when he finished that I was motivated to put everything back nice and organized.

The “lower level “of my coffee table (what is that called?) is full of books and photo albums that are currently in circulation, and I even bought a pretty dark wicker basket that stays on the coffee table to hold magazines and clickers. Let me just say, it’s truly amazing when you can find the clicker.

Last but not least, my husband’s laptop that was living on the coffee table with the power cord strung over the back of the couch for 15 months (embarrassing but true), is now in the corner of my living room, on his grandmother’s antique sewing table, at our own personal “internet café” as my brother named it, complete with an adorable ottoman as a seat that I found in the home section at Marshall’s.

One room down, seven to go. And I am motivated to move on to room #2- my kitchen, because I LOVE the feeling of this organized and clean space called my living room. And the best part about it is that it’s so quick and therefore EASY to clean (easy is a word us lazy folk love). I can put everything away in under 5 minutes and somehow, when my space is clear, my brain is clear.

Thanks, mom, for this tiny yet brain clearing, mood improving piece of advice, and for inspiring my first blog post. Keep the wisdom coming!