Another Fine Mess

My life is such a mess that if I ever won the lottery, I'd never collect the money. That's because my wife, Sue, the kind of person who throws everything out, would inadvertently toss the ticket in the garbage or I, the kind of person who saves everything, would put it somewhere in the house and never find it again.

My special hiding place would be either my office, which is a pigsty; my bureau, which might contain the remains of Jimmy Hoffa; my closet, which has no skeletons but plenty of dust balls; or the garage, which looks like a bomb hit it. If you looked in the dictionary under the word "clutter," you would see a picture of one of these four places. Unfortunately, in my house, you couldn't find the dictionary.

So, in a long-overdue effort to de-clutter my world, I recently went to the Nesconset branch of the Smithtown (N.Y.) Public Library for a program called "De-clutter Your World." It was run by Jennifer Ryan, a certified professional organizer whose company, Create New Order, was founded six years ago to help people like me and the 18 other disorganized souls who attended the program.

One of them was a woman who carries all of her bills in her pocketbook, which she lugged along as proof. "In a strange way, you're pretty organized," Ryan told the woman, "but your pocketbook is a mess."

Speaking of messes, Ryan said she was once hired by a man whose house was so messy that he couldn't find the $87,000 he received in an estate clean-out. "He knew it was in there, but he didn't know where," said Ryan, who unearthed the cash in a storage area.

There are even messes in Ryan's house, thanks mainly to her 18-year-old daughter. "Her room is such a disaster area that I just close the door," said Ryan, who listened in disbelief as I told her that I once called both the governor's office and the White House to see if I could get my younger daughter's room officially declared a disaster area so Sue and I would be eligible for state or federal funds to clean it up.

"What did they tell you?" Ryan asked.

"Close the door," I replied.

I was so impressed with Ryan's program that I invited her to my house for a consultation, which is part of her service (information is at createneworder.com).

"Here's my philosophy," I said as Ryan sat at the uncluttered kitchen table with Sue and me. "Men don't know where anything is. Women do - except if a man asks. Then it's never there."

"My husband is very structured, but generally speaking, you could be right," Ryan said. "Let's find out. We'll do the worst first."

"That's definitely the garage," Sue said as she led Ryan in there.

"I'm hoping you can help us find $87,000," I said.

"Did you have $87,000 to begin with?" Ryan asked.

"No," I admitted.

"Then I can't help you find it," she said.

Ryan would have had to do an awful lot of digging because there are still unopened boxes from when Sue and I moved in almost 10 years ago. "That's nothing," Ryan said. "I had a client with 35 years' worth of junk."

She waded through the clutter and said, "Buy some shelving, create a hole by moving some of this stuff over, and put the boxes, tools and other stuff on the shelves."

After Ryan saw my office, which she said wasn't so bad because she could actually walk in without breaking her neck, she suggested shelves, another bookcase and a third filing cabinet.

As for my bureau, which is in the bedroom and contains, among lots of other things, my underwear, Ryan said, "We all have drawers in our drawers. Learn how to fold clothes properly and you'll be amazed at how much more room you'll have."

I didn't come out of the closet because I couldn't get in there, but Ryan said it wasn't that terrible, even though I have pants that I got years ago and have never worn. "Give the old stuff to Goodwill or you'll never get on the cover of GQ," she said.

All in all, Ryan added, there is hope. "You can be saved," she told me. "And if you ever win the lottery, remember where you put the ticket."

Stamford Advocate columnist Jerry Zezima can be reached at [e-mail]. His blog is www.jerryzezima.blogspot.com.

Copyright 2008 by Jerry Zezima

Comments

[Joodth]

Jerry Zezima's columns have kept me in stitches for years. Once the stitches come out, I'm back for more.
I have been a fan of Jerry's throughout the years and rely on him for keeping my weekly laugh quota in working order. Of all the humor columnists, Jerry goes straight forethe funny bone and does it in a way that has me rolling on the floor. So between the stitches and being on the floor for part of the day, you can see what a mess I am. I owe this all to Jerry without whom life just wouldn't be as much fun as it is.
Hurrah for jerry Zezima. Whatever would we do without him?
Judith Marks-White
"Joodth"

[Jerry Zezima - Huffpost Blogger]

Coming from Judith Marks-White, this is high praise indeed. Not only is she one of the country's best humor columnists, she also is a comic novelist whose second book, "Bachelor Degree," has just been published. I am about to dip into it and I'm sure it will be as good as her first book, "Seducing Harry." She's irresistible!

[dadw5boys]

Wife grabbed up a shirt I had taken off to mow the yard with lottery ticket in it and washed it.

It was 1 or 5 winning tickets for 16,7 million. Needless to say I got zero.

My Uncle won the lottery but the state took all of it to pay for My Aunts care since her mental breakdown 12 years before. He never divorced her like the doctors advised. The State did give him the deed to his home back. He had already lost a Business worth $800,000 to pay for her care. He could have divorced her and saved a few million plus the lottery winnings.

[Jerry Zezima - Huffpost Blogger]

If your uncle truly loved your aunt, and there is ample evidence of it, then he did the right thing by not divorcing her, dadw5boys, despite the financial repercussions. Two old sayings are corny but true: "Money doesn't buy happiness" and "Love conquers all."

As for the incident in which your wife washed the shirt with your winning lottery ticket in the pocket, which could be construed as money laundering, this is what happens when you do yard work. See one of my previous columns, "Home, Sweat Home," for evidence.

Thanks for your comment. Take care, keep smiling and, instead of counting money, count your blessings.