Where The Wild Things Are

by Cathy Fischer of Fifty Is The New

“A house is just a pile of stuff with a cover on it.”
—George Carlin

There is a spider web in the back of my brain, and at its center a big fat spider waits patiently. It started a few years back, after moving in to my 860 square foot apartment on the 22nd floor of a mid-century high-rise.

If you came to visit, you’d probably think, Gee, she is neat (as in tidy). Nothing is obstructing the magnificent view, and everything is in its place. There are no kids’ toys to trip you up as you walk across the gleaming hardwood floors, and with Rosa’s help every other week, the place stays pretty clean.

If you were to go through my drawers (but of course you’re not that type of person) you might think, Hmm, pretty orderly: socks with their respective mates, underwear… color-coded?
(When black and leopard are dominant, it’s easy.) Clothes hang on flocked hangers and t-shirts sit neatly in their cubbies. The bathroom is small yet uncluttered, but wait… what lies behind the gold curtain to the right of the front door? You may have missed it (I was hoping you had).

The second bathroom in this late ‘60s luxury apartment has been tastefully converted to an office. But now, it’s the spider’s lair—a scary place. It’s where the wild things are! A quick inventory of the small room reveals stacked boxes from my original move, photo albums, luggage, books, rolls of wrapping paper, framed artwork, and who knows what else.

Is this a junk drawer gone bonkers? I’m pretty sure that I’m not a hoarder (I hear there’s a new TV show about those who can’t let go of stuff), but I do accumulate things of beauty and sentimental value. Plus, there’s just not a lot of closet space.

I had planned to make the room into a nice storage area including a rack for seasonal clothes and a small desk, while still accommodating Cleo’s litter box and a reasonable amount of “storable” stuff. The original start date for the project was Memorial weekend 2008, but on that particular Friday I got my breast cancer diagnosis. So, instead of diving headlong into the project, I went into escapist mode: movies, friends, drinks, etc. So here I am, more than a year later, I’m healthy and have no good excuse not to begin—except that everything and anything else is so much more appealing! I am well aware of the feng shui wisdom in regards to clutter. I’ve got books on paper tiger taming and organizing from the inside out, but what I don’t have is theoomph! to just do it! Help!

Help? I guess that’s what I need. Would it be worth my money to hire someone to get me started? Have any of you done this? Would I rather put bamboo shoots under my nails? I have a talent for procrastination masked as productivity: cooking, cleaning, exercising, connecting with friends and family—so many excellent ways to avoid the spider’s web.

Yes, I’m rather certain that I will feel better once this project is underway and even more so when it’s over. Here’s how it’s supposed to work: Remove clutter and it will make room for good things in your life. (So, the man of my dreams is just waiting for me to get organized?)

I can visualize myself starting: A beacon of light shines into the dark room and the Hallelujah Chorus begins to swell. I realize that the spider’s web is indeed a work of art as she welcomes me into her lair.