On Longfellow and Organizing

I'm assuming most of you are reasonably familiar with Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's famous poems.

Take this one for example:

There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid.

Not a superb example of Longfellow's genius, by any stretch of the imagination- but it's certainly not atrocious. (In my opinion, any poem that does not contain rainbows and unicorns it is not atrocious.)
Anyway, when it comes to organizing- I'll be the first to admit I share a few things in common with the curly-haired imp in the poem.
I am capable of arranging my belongings perfectly. I can shuffle and sort and rearrange just as well as anyone else. But more often than not- I let things slide. Horridly.

Maybe if I had the self-discipline to stay organized, I would not be watching toddlers unpack my school bag only to gleefully discover leftover crackers, random computer cables, and stray post-it notes. (This would assuredly keep me from sticking those post-it notes on the faces of the aforementioned children with the aim of preventing vandalistic acts from being directed at my poor sketchbook.) Maybe if I was more organized I would not wake up to a Mt. Everest- sized pile of laundry on my dresser every Monday morning. Maybe if I was more organized I wouldn't have to heroically deal with my disasters before I move on to loftier things. Loftier things like to-do lists. And poetry.
I have a break this week from a few of my classes. This, as you may have guessed, means I have extra time to do stuff at home. I cleaned my closet and desk the other day, and am now pleased to announce that I am currently a very organized person.


But watch out. Because, after all- well, you know the poem.