Furniture is starting to move back into the office. Book shelves first. Now the books. Now the organizing of the books.
I have a strong sense that I should organize the books. I like to keep it simple. Start with basic genres, fiction, non-fiction, poetry, drama. That’s as sophisticated as I get. Alphabetical within genre.
Half way through the sorting I begin to think that organizing all this really sucks: partially because I can barely remember the order in which the alphabet progresses and partially because I’d rather do anything in the world other than organize. I often think it would be preferable just to give the stuff away than to struggle with organizing.
I like things that are organized. I just don’t want to do it. I would have made a lousy librarian.
I just wonder why I dislike organizing so much. Maybe I don’t like it because I’m so bad at it and it takes way more mental energy than I think it should. But I really think it’s about time. Time spent doing anything but that, even if that something is doing nothing, or as I like to all it, just being, is time better spent.
Time is priority. Priority is time.
Or is it my minimalism? Less possessions less organizing. Or did the dislike of organizing create the minimalism? The chicken and the egg here. I suppose deep analysis of origins here isn’t entirely necessary.
I can purge almost anything but books. Good thing I acquire books at the rate I read, which is very slow.