There are tidy, well organized people in this world for whom a pile of clutter is akin to nails on a chalkboard; who relish compartmentalizing their office into a highly functional workspace, complete with labels and plastic bins; people who would rather gouge out their own eyes than allow the accumulation of plastic water bottle tops or coffee cups on their desk; people who would die of shame to find sunflower seed shells on the floor around their wastebasket.

I am not one of those people, but I have tried to be. Really, I have.

I have drooled over the pages of glossy magazines featuring pictures of perfect offices; pictures that showed the late morning sun casting its rays over pristine orderly workspaces where neat and tidy people do neat and tidy work. Beautiful offices that looked like showpieces, both stylish and functional. I wanted an office like that, so I purchased organizers and letter holders and plastic bins so that there would be "a place for everything and everything in its place." I put up an "inspiration board" (this was pre-Pinterest days) I even went so far as to buy an honest to God label maker, reasoning that if I had a visual of where things should go, I would be more inclined to put them there. Kind of like Label Guilt. But that purchase quickly went south as I found it more fun to label the chair, the phone, the children, and the dog than to actually use it for its intended purposes.

And then it hit me: I am not a neat and tidy person-I am someone who would rather label the dog, than organize her office. I mean, no matter how beautiful that magazine office is, I simply couldn't be creative in it until a couple of Post-Its were on the floor, a drawer was semi-open and my phone was lost under a pile of paperwork. It's how I roll, and although I know I will never be an Ikea poster girl, I'm okay with that.

Now, excuse me while I try to find my stapler.