We also, it seems, disparage the idea of being organised… as exemplified in the attitude I heard expressed in a lift one day: “My friend is so organised she makes me sick.” Being organised is uncool (at the same time as being a target of covert envy).
All of this makes for a pretty toxic way of living: we either live in mess, or we keep things tidy resentfully. And we either live in chaos, or we pretend that we are not organised, so as to appear creative and spontaneous.
So here I sit on a Sunday morning, with a set of lists made for the whole week (in the central black Moleskine by which my life is conducted). I know what we will be having for supper next Sunday. I have a set of outfits in my cupboard all made up and ready to be taken out each night for the next day. And I’m proud of all that. It takes work, but it removes stress. So, uncool I am and always will be.