Midnightfriend steps up to the keyboard and says, “ Hello, everyone.  My name is Lady Krommos.”

 She imagines Gentle Mindsayers responding, “Hello, Lady Krommos.”

Stretching her fingers LK continues, “I am a ‘Messy’.  It has been approximately eleven years and eight months since I first discovered that I have a real problem.  In that time I have had many small victories, but I have yet to have a single day that messes have not been found in my house, and occasionally it’s overwhelming.”

She imagines many Gentle Mindsayers just hit ‘Esc’ in disgust, yet many more lean closer to their monitors, eyebrows raised in morbid curiosity.

“Krommos is a true saint, sticking with me even though the home in which he was raised was ordered, spotless, and his mother was the ‘Mrs. Cleaver’ archetype, while I am more like Fred Sanford by nature.  The fact that I use such similes indicates how and when my problem really started. 

“The chronic issues I still face are:  laying down various objects on the first flat surface within my reach when I am distracted from one task by a call to see to another one; and equally frustrating, I leave unfinished books and/or projects ‘out’ where I am working on them when I have to stop for some other duty, foolishly imagining I’ll actually get to resume the desired activity soon enough to warrant leaving it there.

(Deep breath before painful confession)

“I own about four sets of diaper pins, but I usually only know for certain where one set is because the baby is wearing them.  I have several places they are likely to be when I go hunting after bath-time, but they are rarely in the first couple of places I look.  Once, I put them all together in one ‘place’.  That lasted almost a week!  Just saying that encourages me to have another diaper-pin round-up tomorrow and go for ten days at it!”

Surely Mindsayers gracious enough to stay with my story this far are proud to chant in one accord, “Good for you! A place for everything and everything in its place!” and randomly cheer for my determination.

“Thank you, all, for your kind support, helpful attention, and for not saying ‘slacker’, ‘pig’, or ‘lazy bitch’ loud enough that I can’t rationalize what I thought I heard as if you really said, ‘Back her!’, ‘I dig!’, and ‘daisy stitch’.  I wear a shirt with embroidered lapels to every Meeting of the Messies for that specific facet of emotional security, so next time we meet, don’t assume I’m still behind on the laundry, okay?  Goodnight.”

Messy Mediator asks, “Anyone else?”