For the Sake of Order

I love all things organizing. I love to alphabetize, color coordinate, sort, file, alphabetize (did I say that already?) I'm OK with piles as long as they are piles in progress. ex: to be filed, sorted, color coordinated...

I hate clutter, though. I throw away junk(and some not so junk) mail as I walk in the door with it. I don't want to see it sitting in a pile that I have to go through later. Riky rarely ever sees any mail addressed to him. I know it is a federal offense punishable by death or something. I also have no problem recording movies from video to DVD~~and none of my pillows or mattresses have tags on them~~rebel that I am, I took care of them right away.
I also toss receipts. If it doesn't have a purpose to be kept-- Such as a warranteed electronic item...right into the trash it goes after I check that I paid the proper price for each item. I recently was reissued a rebate check for a cell phone purchase, the more I think about it, the more I think that I probably threw away the first one. Neither I, my husband or my children would be surprised. $50 right into the trash, for the sake of clutter! Probably not a sacrifice that I should be willing to make, but apparently it was. I am sure that Riky's next wife will greet him at the door with a Pepsi and his slippers, dressed in something slinky, with the days' mail and receipts tied up with a pretty little bow -for him to check before depositing them in the sparkling clean receptacle. But, he will have to wait for me to die first.
As it is "have you seen that receipt that was on the counter?" makes me walk slower and immediately start to throw up ""prayer flares" that God will perform a miracle on my behalf and he will find it before I get there. More often than not, I am reminded of this post. I could have written it myself. if I could write better and she was looking for a piece of paper about 2 inches by 3 inches instead of something large and obvious

I am ever grateful when I find said receipt at the top of a bag and haven't had a shower yet so that I am not wasting time and water, too, having to reshower. I think the one thing that humbles me even more than actually digging through a week's worth of trash for a small piece of paper is this:

Garbage day is Friday. When there is a holiday, the day gets pushed back to Saturday. We were working on some project that I don't even remember, but Riky realized that he needed the receipt for something. My memory is shot, so I am not sure what it was exactly. And...if this had been the first or only time this had happened, it would probably stand outeven in my baffled mind, but, alas, this has happened many, many, too many times.

So, Riky asks where the receipt is. I cringe and ask why he gave it to me if he was going to be needing it back. He should know that this is dangerous, if he has any intentions of keeping something, he has to make an announcement, put a sticky note on it, or keep it in his pocket (which is dangerous in itself because I don't check pockets, I "pat down" clothes before they go into the washer) anyway... I spend about 2 minutes looking in all of the obvious places and then race down the driveway in bare feet to grab the dumpster and pull it back from the corner. I can hear the garbage truck down the street and my heartbeat in my ears. (probably from my sprint down the driveway, since I am sooooo out of shape) I start mentally calculating how many days it has been since we got the items on the receipt. It never fails, it a Saturday or a Sunday purchase, which means that I have to dig through them all. Which serves me right for not having a "hang on to for just a minute" pile.

Back to the dumpster: I have a bagless vacuum, so all dirt and hair has to be dumped into the garbage, loose of course since it's bagless, lets see, we have a puppy, and a cat (with litter box), I'm a coffee drinker (lots and lots of coffee), so there's coffee grounds, and of course, there is plenty of junk mail and disposed of receipts from other items. So, I remove all of the bags and start at the newest, least fermented bag. As I finish going through one, I toss it back into the dumpster and rip open another one. Now you have a visual of what I am digging through at the time...with my eyes closed until I feel a paper product of some kind...then I peek and pray and move on, because that is not it. AFTER I get to the last bag, I hear the garbage truck round the corner. The race is on. I have to find the receipt, replace the trash, and get it back to the curb and I have 3-5 minutes in which to complete this task. I hate to sweat. I am on the last bag, which means that if I don't find it, I have missed it and have to go back through all of the old bags.

At the exact moment that I am done pilfering through the last bag and starting to take the ripped open, dripping bags back out for a second go around, my loving husbands saunters down the drive and says "hey, guess what I found?" His timing is impeccable, if I do say so myself.
Serves me right, though, for opening and disposing of his mail. I think that this would be the perfect punishment for opening another person's mail. Dumpster diving is a worthy punishment for all sorts of crimes.
Have I learned my lesson? No, I still throw away receipts, and this incident has been repeated more times than I would like to admit. I don't enjoy it, but it will probably continue until Riky's new wife takes over. He will be bored, for sure...right after he drinks his Pepsi and puts on his slippers, what will they find to talk about?