Easy Earring Organizer

People.  I got 99 problems and organization IS JUST one.  It's a fresh-on-the-ledge concept for me.  This whole order idea.  I want it.  I see it even.  I just can't pull it off. What's that?

Find a good mentor you say?  Someone to emulate?  One to pattern your habits after?   Oh, it's not like I don't have organizational icons. I do.  Totally, I do.  Angela Burke.  Martha Stewart. Claire Wood.  You know, just to name a few. They woo me with their kempt-i-ness. Their fantastical ways of function and forthrightedness for precision. And me?  I just make up words like they're real and put them in blog posts as full-on descriptors.

I may be the brightest, most Betsey Johnson tool in the shed, but I am, by far, not the sharpest. Things don't collect in my brain in tiny categories of  KEEP.  DISCARD. REPURPOSE.  Bills are paid spot-on-the-money {Pun intended.  Insert homeschool mom here.  While you're at it, insert public high school teacher/coach husband here too.}  the last day they are due.  I work out of my version of an Excel spreadsheet.  It's called a steno pad with absolutely NOT ONE stitch of writing on the actual horizontal lines. Slants & bubbles, people. Slants & bubbles.

And, I'm never late.  To anything.  Nevv-herrrr.  Ready for church?  I'm usually the first one in the car.  Sarcasm is healthy at times, no?  So it only makes sense that this supercalifragilistic idea for ceasing the underbreath-gritted teeth swear words expediting my style options while being attentive to the time frame allowed for fashioning would come to me one Sunday morning while I am cussing encouraging myself because "Where on earth is my other emerald chunk dangle earring???  They would look KILLER with this outfit."

I never found it.  Had to opt for the oversized gold hoops.  Whaaaa & boo.Not enough color. Outfit grade out:  C-.  And you can bet the first thing I did when I got home from church was NOT feed my family.  It was follow through with this fresh-on-the-ledge swear word/fashion intervention.  I grabbed old ice cube trays that the boys and I used for sorting and skip counting back when they were just tiny guys on this homeschool scene. I mean we are re-grouping, multiplying and all kinds of subtracting across a whole armada of zeros now.  Ice cube trays, you.are.through.  Take your tiny wooden cubes and cute colored glass rocks elsewhere. We gots no time for manipulatives up in this piece.

I found all my ever-lovin' earring matches.  The emerald chunk dangle number was on the floor by my cowboy boots.  The one black onyx/diamond pretend-it-is-your-grandma's-heirloom-but-they-came-from-the-junk-jewelry-store-down-the-road is still on the loose.  Then I just proceeded to plunk them into their happy spot in their new one level apartment complex. There will be NO COHABITATION.  Each set has it's own place.  I vow this to you here & now. {insert Luther Vandross here.}

And I just happen to be an overachiever.  Yes, one can be a complete and total train wreck when it comes to order, but a prime example of an obsessive-compulsive over-doer, you know, when the times comes.   NOW.  We must organize everything RIGHT THIS SECOND.  So I proceeded to tidy up my most loved & used wrist baubles too.  Because not wearing a bracelet is like not having a social security card, right?

So there. One step closer to my icons.  I am reaching for you, girls.  You may or not have headshot pin-ups on the inside of my cupboards. Martha's was easy to nab as she's, well, everywhere with the magazine and having her own website & all.  Burke & Wood, I have my ways. Everybody needs an icon & a good ice cube tray.