Wondering Why

Last evening I said to Marlo, "Before a trip, I can clean corners of chaos. But the rest of the time, I can't get to them. Why?"

Yesterday, I sorted all 2009 medical bills and applied for reimbursement. My New Year's resolution to sort them monthly had never materialized.

A six-inch clutter of paper has moved from my desktop to a file drawer or trash. A box labeled "VK mail" now perches neatly there, and Write Place staff will fill it in the coming month.

I have read Deb Jansen's notes on social networking--which had been on that "intended pile" for two months.

Laundry is folded into drawers. The door to the sun porch is labeled, "Keep this door open."

My usernames and passwords have been entered as electronic notes in Outlook. For the first time in a year, the batteries on my mini-keyboard have a charge.

This Sunday morning on the couch, computer on my lap, I'm still wondering why.

Is it a simply a larger version of the need for clean-underwear-in-case-of-a car-crash? The desire for a pleasant return from Nicaragua? A hunger for order that surfaces with deadlines?

I know only this: looking at this pristine order provides me pleasure.

Darn.

I see an overstuffed magazine rack across the room.