Messy Jessie
So my parents created some kind of self-fullfilling prophecy when they decided to start calling me Messy Jessie as a baby. Some (mainly my parents) might argue (and do argue) that the name created itself based on my dirty diapers. But what started as the semi-cuteness of baby poo grew and developed into a 24-year-old this:
Yes, Friends, that is my bedroom. And that is my bedroom after I carted out 4 stuffed hampers of laundry that looked something like this:
which is now in the family room.
Honestly, it's embarassing. And it is interfering with my life in the form of stress, because I don't want to be in my room and therefore have nowhere peaceful to disappear to, I can never find anything clean to wear (despite the additional pile of unfolded clean clothes on the pool table-- that was hamper number 5), and my lack of organization is leaking into my career in the form of not being able to find things for lessons right before I have to use them, and being late for meetings with the principal.
So upon my graduation, my mom decided to get me a personal organizer so that I may live the rest of my life the way a normal, un-chicken-with-its-head-cut-off person does. And so she was looking up organizers online, and guess who is now my personal organizer?
My 1st grade teacher.
There is something very surreal about sitting at your dining room table with your first grade teacher when you are 24. You start to remember things, like when Courtney decided to smell birdseed and got one stuck up her nose and she had to go to the nurse, or when Tom accicentally opened the door to the classroom bathroom and shut it right away when he saw you were in there, but then reopened it to watch you pee, or how you used to always get in trouble because the boy Zach who sat next to you was SO funny, but his jokes were quieter than your laughter.
I wasn't going to submit these pictures to you until I had an 'after' to put next to it. But I think that in the same way blogging is a little theraputic, this will also be. It's like I'm coming full circle. Mrs. G. was an important influence in my life as a child, and now she will be the same for me as an adult.
It says on her brochure, "Creating order out of chaos is truly theraputic and empowers a person to gain control over his or her life." I'm not sure if you can really understand this if you are not a disorganized sort of person. But as someone who has created an identity out of a nickname, it gives me hope.
Yes, Friends, that is my bedroom. And that is my bedroom after I carted out 4 stuffed hampers of laundry that looked something like this:
which is now in the family room.
Honestly, it's embarassing. And it is interfering with my life in the form of stress, because I don't want to be in my room and therefore have nowhere peaceful to disappear to, I can never find anything clean to wear (despite the additional pile of unfolded clean clothes on the pool table-- that was hamper number 5), and my lack of organization is leaking into my career in the form of not being able to find things for lessons right before I have to use them, and being late for meetings with the principal.
So upon my graduation, my mom decided to get me a personal organizer so that I may live the rest of my life the way a normal, un-chicken-with-its-head-cut-off person does. And so she was looking up organizers online, and guess who is now my personal organizer?
My 1st grade teacher.
There is something very surreal about sitting at your dining room table with your first grade teacher when you are 24. You start to remember things, like when Courtney decided to smell birdseed and got one stuck up her nose and she had to go to the nurse, or when Tom accicentally opened the door to the classroom bathroom and shut it right away when he saw you were in there, but then reopened it to watch you pee, or how you used to always get in trouble because the boy Zach who sat next to you was SO funny, but his jokes were quieter than your laughter.
I wasn't going to submit these pictures to you until I had an 'after' to put next to it. But I think that in the same way blogging is a little theraputic, this will also be. It's like I'm coming full circle. Mrs. G. was an important influence in my life as a child, and now she will be the same for me as an adult.
It says on her brochure, "Creating order out of chaos is truly theraputic and empowers a person to gain control over his or her life." I'm not sure if you can really understand this if you are not a disorganized sort of person. But as someone who has created an identity out of a nickname, it gives me hope.
posted by Jess at 4:44 PM
3 Comments:
Ah, the moat... in all its moaty glory. I miss it... but I guess I shouldn't be selfish. So instead I wish you the best of luck in quelling your inner-moat-beast.
well jessica, from one clean-freak to another (note that i never have and never will post a pic of my room... anywhere!), i will let you know that my saving grace is to make my bed everyday. it becomes like an oasis of peace in the choas of my room.
"organization is a state of mind. it's a nice state to visit, but i wouldn't want to live there."
Is it a bad sign that the first teacher you ever had has abandoned the field to pursue her love of organization? Perhaps this means that your disorganization is what will save you from abandoning your career??? In any case - does she remember you?
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