Learning to love my life in the burbs.

I could buy this at Get Organized
Honestly, do I really need a special gizmo to store my spices? Well I know I don’t need it, but I really really want it.

I live in an 800 sq. ft. house with a galley kitchen. Living in my house is like living on a boat — you have to make the most of every square inch. Most New York City people learn how to organize small spaces because that’s the way we live. I once met someone who actually rented a closet with a single mattress on the floor as his bedroom. But I was always very fortunate in my urban rental experiences.

During all those years of city dwelling I bounced from one enormous Upper West Side/East Village/Greenwich Village illegal sublet to another. I had friends who inherited leases (sadly a disappearing entitlement) to spacious lofts, or lived in their parents townhouse while mom and dad lived in the Caribbean, or who lived in massive apartments in pre-war buildings with 24-hour doormen on duty, and they all needed a roommate who could cook. Having a dinner party for fifteen artsy fartsy types? Your sorority/fraternity/book club coming over and you really want to impress? What do you do when you live in luxury but you don’t have the trust fund to go with it? I’m your girl. You buy the groceries, get out of the kitchen and I’ll whip up something marvelous. Just be clear that you are washing the dishes.

Then I met this wonderful man and truly he is Prince Charming on a garbage truck (yes I married the garbage man) and he owned a house in Westchester. And I thought gee whiz! A house with a yard and a nice lake around the corner! How wonderful! And then I went slowly out of my mind the first year I lived there because of the endless monotonous chirping of the crickets, the lack of excellent take-out, and the complete absence of closets in our home.

I never realized that I had a fear of all things domestic, but it turned out to be true. Here in the burbs, an affordable housekeeper is hard to find and guess what? I hate to clean. Cooking doesn’t count as a chore because for me it is both meditation and art. Finally, I got a grip and decided to conquer my fear of all things domestic. I bought those heavy duty yellow rubber gloves for scrubbing the toilet. And I have become obsessed with organic gardening. Next year, I’m going to enter my enormous zucchini in the local Grange Fair because I have to do something with the energy that I used to release pushing and shoving riding the subways and besides what else was I going to do with all that grass I mean for goddess sake there was A LOT of grass.

This is available from TaylorGifts.com
Just look at that sales pitch! From Home Mess to Home Office! It’s like they’re reading my mind. Recently I have developed a thing (you could even call it a crush) for these home organization catalogs. They whisper sweetly in my ear about ending clutter and clearing physical space so that I can be more creative. With no clutter I will write my screenplay, win the Academy Award and finally use that acceptance speech that I’ve been practicing in the shower since I was nine.

It is true that:

I could buy this from TaylorGifts.com
Is this the magic item that will save my counters from *Pot Sprawl? Well is it? Because I really really want it. I want this pot lid holder to save me from myself, to free my counters for the food prep that god intended them for and to give me the peace of mind to sit quietly at my kitchen table writing fiction and dreaming of walk-in closets.

Sprawl: n. The unplanned, uncontrolled spreading of urban development into areas adjoining the edge of a city.

Pot Sprawl: n. The unplanned, uncontrolled spreading of pot lids into areas adjoining the stove, fridge and dish washer.