Disorganized

It is a sign of high intelligence that a person is disorganized.

I must be a friggin’ genius.

I sit in my “office” in lovely Barstow, temperature only 110 degrees today. Yeah, the Alaskan breezes are running through.

The “office” is filled with a basket of unfinished writing in many different notebooks. A box of supplies. An old monitor (circa 2008) from my Humboldt office. Another box of supplies. A plastic filing cabinet filled with useless implements. Some books on the floor. A second office chair which seemed to migrate into the office. A box of files from my former practice. A stack of CD’s. A box of CD covers with envelopes on the top of it.

And those are the organized parts.

I try to organize, really I do. I got in here a month ago and got rid of a lot of stuff cluttering up the place. By now, more clutter has magically appeared, as if the space I created abhorred its blank slate-ness.

But, as I said, they say disorganization is the sigh of a highly intelligent mind. But no one tells you why.

Disorganization does not make me happy. When I am in a room filled with clutter I can’t seem to nap adequately. And napping is my superpower.

At work my desk is filled with files. I call it the “canyon of cases” because navigating it is like rafting down the Grand Canyon. Not that I’ve ever done that. But if I do, I know I will have a weird feeling I’ve been there before.

My plans to organize all come to a comic end. As the old saying goes, “man makes plans and God laughs. Then sends more clutter.”

I think the idea is that disorganization is the sign of an active mind. You start on one thing, then jump to another, then a third represents itself. Before you know it, the whole world is filled with a thousand unrelated things.

But in truth, it just means I can’t seem to focus. Every new shiny thing pushes its way toward me.

You know, though, it does help me identify other members of my tribe. When I walk into a man’s office and see it’s full of clutter and disorganization, I know I am with a fellow genius.

You know what scares me? Those people with neat and clean desks. I am sure they are serial killers with bodies buried in the drawers.

Just sayin’.