“The holidays are over, people!” she said as she snatched up the cute little metal Christmas trees off of our desks and placed them in the closet. And just like that she was gone. Annie—office organizer extraordinaire! I’m wearing an imaginary bracelet these days that says W.W.A.D.—“what would Annie do?”
It started out with an old dot matrix printer, a fax machine with a roll of thermal paper, an electric type-writer, boxes of financial records dating back to the seventies and lots of dust. These were all housed in the dreaded “back room” right next to our office at the township.
No one in the office was willing to tackle that room, so we hired Annie. Annie came with glowing recommendations, a three-ring binder full of governmental laws pertaining to township records tucked in clear plastic sleeves and a bizarre excitement to undertake the task at hand.
Several mornings a week, we’d hear Annie back there thumping and moving and sneezing from the dust. After a few months of work, many full shredding containers and lots of laughs over outdated equipment, Annie has re-emerged and the room has been transformed to a tidy, well-labeled source of history. It’s amazing what a few boxes, markers, and labels can accomplish in the hands of a determined organizer.
You’d think that we’d let her go now that her job is finished, but . . . no. Annie has uncovered more—we’ve allowed her to peek into a few closets within our office and have seen her eyes light up. Suddenly our supplies are organized and accessible. We no longer have ink cartridges for non-existent printers, envelopes are all in one spot and she’s uncovered a ten-year supply of jumbo paper clips.
And now . . . well now I’m getting kind of nervous. I think she might be working her way over to my desk and I’m not sure how I feel about that. I tend to work in chaos and, even though I believe in the old adage that “a messy desk is a sign of a creative mind,” the truth is I don’t really like working in a mess and creativity is not exactly a requirement for a township treasurer. So . . . it’s decision time—do I let Annie help me with a task that’s pretty daunting or do I try to get myself organized before she gets to my corner? Trying to stay a step ahead of her is my current plan.
But that’s not the only place I need help. Annie has inspired me to begin the de-crappification of my house. A few years ago I asked my daughter to help me organize my photos since I was “a little behind.” She loaded several boxes into her car and returned them as a Christmas gift—sixteen tidy albums full of pictures!
So now I’ve been inspired to do more. The old phrase, “how do you eat an elephant?—one bite at a time” has kind of been our motto at home. Collecting all of my spare yarn and knitting needles from various spots in the house and boxing them up—one bite of the elephant. Throwing away long-expired medications, sun tan lotions and supplies from a dog who hasn’t lived here in four years—another bite of the elephant. Faded wrapping paper, crushed bows, Easter basket grass, knotted curling ribbon, dried out ink pens, ridiculous items that make me shake my head—they’ve hit the trash bag.
Other things aren’t so easy. So much stuff—so much sentimental value—so many memories. But I can’t keep it all. The gift is in the realization that there’s a lot of people and a lot of love in my life. I just can’t keep every candle, every teddy bear and every piece of jewelry. Nor can I keep every letter and every card; and if I were to start re-reading them, I’d lose courage and hang on.
This is going to take a while and it’s quite exhausting, but I’m determined. That elephant is not staying around forever. That huge stack of music will get organized. Junk will be destroyed and the yard sale will happen. I’m taking one bite at a time. Bottom line—that’s what Annie would do and she gave me the courage to pick up the spoon.
