Take a look at this.
That would be my desk. Notice how you can see actual desk surface there on either side of the computer. Notice that there are not ridiculous amounts of papers and books of all kinds piled in not-so-neat piles across the entire thing. You probably can't notice, but that file holder on the left is holding only paperwork that is current and needed, as opposed to things such as financial aid paperwork for children who graduated from college nearly two years ago. Notice the file folder on the right. That is my working to do list, where I write the things I need to take care of and which holds the papers I need to do those things. You can also see the checkbook next to the computer which is currently up-to-date.
And that noise you hear is my happy deep breathing every time I look at it.
It was starting to feel as though my desk represented what my brain looked like. It wasn't pretty. And it really wasn't functional. Every time I looked at my desk, or thought about it, or pondered the things it contained that I needed to do, I could instantly feel my body kick into anxiety mode. It's not a terribly pleasant way to live. Sunday I felt as though I could finally tackle it... needed to tackle it. I spent the entire afternoon sorting out. J. made dinner so I could finish.
I don't think my desk has been this clean and organized for over a year. It's amazing we were able to complete two adoptions, because I spent nearly a year in a panic that my cluttered desk and state of mine was going to cause some important document to go missing.
This feels good. Really, really good. If you have a likewise disastrous spot in your house and psyche, I highly recommend deciding to tackle it. I slept so well last night, I think the neat and organized desk played a huge role in that.