My husband would probably disagree. After all, for the most part of the day, he would tell me to clean up my stuff from the dresser, the bed, the chairs, etc. Shirts and pants left behind to suffer the entire day outside of the cabinet, after not satisfying my fashion need in the morning, the bag I used the day before but now no longer fits my suit, these are left strewn all over the room. It annoys my husband, who just happens to be a neat freak bordering on the obsessive compulsive. I, on the other hand, like to think of myself as “cool.” Heehee. I let my stuff fall where they may — literally. Being to structured and organized is just not me.

I have always been this way since time immemorial. In fact, my husband’s woes in regard to my cleaning up ability is not totally alien to me. You see, even when I was younger, my mom was always on my back, harping about putting things back where they belong. But that would just apply to things belonging to her. With her stuff, everything has a home of its own. Whereas the things I own live anywhere and everywhere, free to take up more space than they actually need, never suffered to stay in some forgotten dark drawer.

Here’s the thing though: I never forget where I put my things. Even though they are scattered everywhere, I can tell you exactly where is the pair of most flattering jeans I own (hanging on the door of the cabinet), my favorite lilac-colored Parker pen (in my bag, between the coin purse and blush on) or the three pieces of safety pin I use to secure blouses to make sure they don’t show more than they ought to.

Until now, I’ve never thought of myself as an organized human being. After all, the years of constant nagging (first, my mom; now, my husband) have engraved in my hard head the words “clean up!” there can be no mistaking its implications.

So, why do I say I’ve suddenly discovered I’m organized? I took a quiz, something I found on yahoo.

According to the quiz, if you can pinpoint the exact location of the items listed therein, then you are organized. This is assuming, of course, that you have all the stuff listed therein. For the most part, I can safely say I can specify where these items are in my room. Never mind that they are scattered here, there and everywhere. After all, the quiz didn’t say things had to be hidden inside some box, labeled and arranged alphabetically. Incidentally, the safety pins are on the second shelf on the dresser, between the bottles of skin lotion and toner. Well, just in case you thought I’d already forgotten.

Even though I’ve tried convincing my husband that I’m actually organized, he still can’t help himself: “clean up your stuff!.” Oh well.