I usually pride myself on being organized around the house; everything has it’s place and all that. Should someone stop by for an impromptu visit, I wouldn’t be embarrassed by fur balls collected under the piano. Why? Because normally they’d be swept up.

And if a friend were to go into my garage pantry, first I’d wonder why, but then I’d be happy she thought I wouldn’t mind. And I wouldn’t. But if she did that today, I’d be embarrassed by its disorganization. I’m usually compulsively neat — products lined up, labels facing forward, matching items near each other, etc. But it’s currently in disarray. See what I mean?

I’ve been pretty busy with feral cat stuff lately. (That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking with it.) So I’ve been neglecting my home duties. For instance, my office appears as though I left a window open during a wind storm. Consequently, my papers aren’t neatly stacked, like usual. It’s not like me to be this messy.

And for the first time, I did absolutely nothing to decorate for Christmas. I know, shame on me. But Piper, my most recently acquired semi-feral cat, would immediately climb the tree, destroying treasured ornaments in the process. So I nixed that idea. I still had my holiday get-together with old friends but this is the extent of my festive atmosphere.

Also, you should see my garage. Well, actually, you shouldn’t. But I’m being transparent here so I’ll show you. Once it got this bad, I kept throwing more into it…literally tossing things in with an attitude of, oh well, I’ll get to it later. What’s happened to me?!

My garage always has cat trees, boxes of canned cat food and bags of kibble — not to forget cat houses, my scooter and bike, a clothes rack for tennis vests and jackets, along with other supplies one stores in one’s garage. But normally those things all have a designated place. Regardless, the days of parking my BMW in the garage have gone bye-bye.

But when winter hit and storms arrived, it was my chance to get back to being compulsively organized while being hostage to the rain. I started upstairs in my incredibly packed clothes closets. I’m talking sardines here. I used most of my meager strength just to pull something out to wear. Here’s a before shot of one of my small closets.

When all was said and done, I collected for donation 42 items of clothing, 11 pairs of shoes, and 8 purses from 3 closets. Then I took a photo of my newly organized closet. But here’s the thing; I can’t discern much of a difference, can you? Yes, there’s more space now between clothes, but not all THAT much.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention the tiniest of tiny coat closets. I have 2 times more coats than space but I made space by stuffing them between those already hanging (because I couldn’t squeeze in even one more hanger). Then, when that didn’t work anymore, I placed them on top of the hanging coats. This one is particularly embarrassing.

So there you go. I’ve bared my soul, which I think was brave, don’t you? Now don’t get me wrong; I’ve reached my tolerance level with being unorganized so I’ll redeem myself during our next storm. My plan: hit the coat closet first. I’m guessing you’re wondering why. Well, silly, I’ll need room for more coats.

Seriously, what’s happened to me?