I can’t take the chaos.
It’s bad enough when my refrigerator is so full I can’t close it without slamming it really hard to shove everything towards the back, and when I wear a sweatshirt and baseball cap to work because I have nothing to wear that isn’t wrinkled, but now I can’t do my taxes because I can’t find the returns from last year. I can’t find electronic copies; I can’t find printed copies. And I’m fine holding off on filing mine, since apparently I owe, which is wrong and sucks and I want to file a formal protest, but I need to send in my mom’s because she’s actually getting money back and she could use it about it now. But can I find her return from last year? No. Of course not.
I recently had to reformat my hard drive, and moved all of my data onto an external drive, but I can’t seem to find the files there, so I have a sinking feeling that everything may be reformatted and gone forever, which would be bad. Really really bad. But I’ve realized that this chaos that surrounds me has infiltrated even my virtual reality, and my computer filing is just as bad as my paper filing. Which I knew already, actually, I just figured that with the handy search feature, I didn’t have to be so organized. I was wrong.
And the cats have been yelling at me all morning because I haven’t fed them. And I haven’t fed them because they’re out of food and I’m not organized enough to buy more before they run out.
But every time I put my foot down and say enough is enough and vow to get organized, I end up right where back where I started, which is to say, exactly where I am now. In chaos.