The Piler



Happy President’s Day!!


And now that the pleasantries are out of the way, I have something to admit.  I’m a piler.  I know that’s not a real word, but I’m going to make it one.  Actually, my ex-boyfriend is the one that made it up to describe me.  What’s a piler, you say??  Well, it’s someone that likes piles, but let me clarify.  I don’t actually like piles.  It’s just what I do.


So I have the day off today.  I really have no idea why they gave us the day off, but I’m not going to complain.  I mean, I know it’s President’s Day and some people get that day off, but I don’t know why I technically have the day off.  Okay, I’m done trying to explain myself on that one.


Anyways, so on my day off, I decided to spend it organizing my place.  I’m pretty freaking proud of myself, but I’m not even going to tackle my closets.  I need a couple of days for those bad boys, so I just worked on the piles I had accumulated in my living room.


I have a desk in my living room because I don’t have an office.  I have two printers on my desk, but you really couldn’t see either one of them.  Somehow I had piled up all sorts of paper and other nonsense on top of the printers.  A friend of mine even came over the other day and immediately pointed and laughed at my desk.  Admittedly, I’m completely ashamed, so now I finally have only a tiny bit of crap on both of the printers now, which seemed like such a success until I realized that instead of a huge pile, I now have a tiny pile.  Why can’t I escape piles???


In the middle desk drawer, that’s supposed to be used for my non-existent keyboard, I have been hiding away all sorts of papers that I should have trashed a long time ago.  So I finally tackled it and I shredded A LOT of papers…and then I accidentally knocked over the shredder once it was filled to the brim.  Fiddlesticks!!  Why am I so freaking clumsy??  And no, I haven’t vacuumed it up yet, but I’ll do that after I finish writing.


I also have three baskets in my living room up against a wall.  I’ve completely filled them all with shoes because I’m too much of a lazy ass to put my shoes in the closet upstairs.  I know….I’m pathetic.


Oh, and my dining room has turned into a complete warehouse of work stuff.  I made a lot of progress on organizing it a couple of weeks ago, but essentially it’s just all very organized piles that are encased in cheap, plastic drawers.  Klassy.


And I can’t believe all the stuff I found in my purse!  Does one really need to carry around 11 lipsticks with them at all times??  Apparently I do since I busted out another small makeup bag to put into my purse to house them all.  And I also found three flash drives, because I use those so often.  <—sarcasm


Now I don’t want you guys to get the wrong impression.  I’m not a hoarder, but then again, hoarders probably started out as pilers and just let it get out of hand.  I like my place to be clean, which is why I hire a friend of mine to come clean my place every other week.  She most likely cleans around the piles.


And I just keep thinking that if my place were bigger, then I wouldn’t have this problem.  But now I know that if I had a bigger place, I’d just create more piles, and I’d hold on to stuff so much longer than necessary.  More proof that I need to buy an Airstream, travel around the country, and try to live as a minimalist….in 5 years or so after I’ve won the lotto.


The craziest part of all this is that I have a slight obsession of buying things that are for organization.  I love shelves, drawers, folders, cabinets, and baskets.  The Container Store makes me shed tears of joy.  I’ve even tried to stop reading the catalogs they send me, so guess what I do with them.  Yep…..I put them in a pile.


So why on Earth am I sharing this??  I seriously have no idea.  I was so proud of myself for doing this stuff and then I just really realized that my ex-boyfriend was right.  All I truly do is put things into piles.  I’m a piler.  I pile things and think what I’m really doing is organizing and cleaning, but I’m not really doing either of those.


Try not to judge me.


This is NOT my place, but I'm sure this person started out as a piler.

This is NOT my place, but I’m sure this person started out as a piler.