“A place for everything and everything in its place!” he used to screech raising his walking stick in the air.
My father was a stickler for organization. If you were to draw a line around the placement of his radio, his back scratcher and his tea cup beside his bed, they were placed precisely in the same spot – day in and day out.
It’s been a while since I’ve lived in a house. A small space is home. Yet conventional tidying up need not apply. If one thing is out of place, the whole space looks a mess.
So when I cram long hours into a project on said computer – the shipshape is literally turned upside down. Dishes stay sticky. Coffee grinds sit splattered. Papers scatter. Yet, does it matter?
Clean space equals clear mind. Cluttered environment displays scattered thoughts.
Dad definitely had one up on me.