3 Things to Organize That Absolutely Do Not Require Organizing
I've always liked keeping track of things. Making lists. Organizing hobbies. Collecting information nobody asked me to collect. Give me something I’m interested in, and sooner or later there will be categories.
Case in point:
I've recently decided to learn how to play three different trading card games.
Three. At the same time.
Because apparently I looked at a hobby involving thousands of beautifully printed, wildly confusing cards and thought, This seems manageable.
And yes, I've been learning how to play them.
I've also purchased card sleeves in five different colors, researched storage boxes, sorted cards, made reference sheets, organized everything by game, and spent an amount of time I will not be disclosing here deciding which cards belong where.
Although, in fairness, learning new hobbies is one of my hobbies. And organizing them might be another. I’ve been known to track my hobbies with a nearly alarming level of detail, too.
Which probably explains why back-to-school shopping still gets me every year.
I don't need a new planner. I need something to put in a binder. (And another excuse to hit up Staples.)
Anyway, there are a surprising number of ways to turn having an interest into recreational administrative work.
Especially if you happen to enjoy office supplies a little too much.
If this sounds familiar, excellent. I have three completely unnecessary projects for us.
1. Become a collector of something extremely specific.
Not necessarily objects. (Although, go for it if that's your thing.) I mean: start noticing something.
Funny signs you pass. Terrible names for paint colors. License plates from different states. Books with houses on the cover. Songs that mention a specific city. Things your kid says that would be deeply concerning without context. Businesses with inexplicable mascots.
Keep a running list. Take pictures. Make a note when you find one.
The only qualification is that at some point you noticed two of them and thought, Wait. How many of these are there?
And suddenly you have a collection.
Maybe you start photographing every business sign with a missing letter. Or keeping a list of all the baffling things you've heard someone say at Costco. Or documenting restaurant bathrooms with surprisingly aggressive decor choices.
Maybe you notice that every Hallmark Christmas movie appears to take place in one of approximately four small towns, and now you need data.
This is how these things happen.
One minute you're living your life like a normal person. The next you're texting someone a picture of a sandwich board because LOOK. ANOTHER ONE.
At that point, I'm afraid it's official.
You've got a thing.
2. Reconstruct a completely unnecessary piece of your personal history.
Your hairstyles, for example.
The bangs. The perm. The Sun-In. The Rachel. The regrettable bob. The even more regrettable attempt to fix the bob. That six-month period when you apparently owned a crimping iron and nobody intervened.
Or you could do technology.
Walkman. Discman. Nokia. Razr. BlackBerry. iPod. That brief period when everyone wore Bluetooth headsets and looked like they were closing a commercial real estate deal in the Target parking lot.
Cars could be excellent: the first one, the one you hated, the one you loved. The one with a cupholder designed by someone who had apparently never encountered a cup. The one you drove on a 14-hour road trip armed with MapQuest directions and a six-disc CD changer.
You could also do jobs. Purses. Glasses. Halloween costumes. Concerts. Houses. Pets. Vacations. Boyfriends, if you have adequate liability insurance.
This may require actual research.
Old photo albums. Yearbooks. Facebook albums from 2009 that should probably remain sealed. A box in your parents' garage labeled CARLY - COLLEGE that you approach with the appropriate protective equipment.
You may discover things you had completely forgotten.
Apparently, you wore that shirt a lot.
Apparently, there was an entire year when your eyebrows were doing something nobody felt comfortable discussing.
Apparently, you owned a pager.
There are probably photos.
There are definitely witnesses.
3. Rank something that has no business being ranked.
Every season of your favorite TV show. The best French fries in town. Your top 10 board games. Every Stephen King adaptation. Disney villains. The various eras of Nicolas Cage.
Categories are encouraged. Develop a scoring system. Make a bracket if the situation calls for it.
This can get as unnecessarily elaborate as circumstances require.
Best grocery-store bakery cookie might require separate scores for texture, chocolate distribution, structural integrity, and performance when eaten directly from the package in the parking lot.
TV seasons may need penalties for terrible finales.
Restaurants can absolutely lose points for bad fries even if nobody else considers fries relevant to the category.
This is your completely unnecessary research project. Academic standards do not apply.
Nobody asked for this information.
That's what makes it important.
I like having the receipts.
This probably explains a lot about Cozy Writing Co.
I make hobby trackers for books, movies, TV shows, tarot cards, board games, and video games because I genuinely want to know.
What did I watch? What did I love? Who keeps winning game night? Which tarot card keeps showing up? How many books have I actually read so far this year? (47, with another 10 DNFs, in case you're curious.)
And, as we've now established, I'm also perfectly willing to create entirely new categories of information for which records have never been requested.
So if you'll excuse me, I have some Nicolas Cage research to conduct.
Want to keep track of the fun stuff?
I made Play It Cool, a free sampler pack of trackers for books, movies, TV shows, board games, and video games.
So if you've ever wanted to know what you actually watched this year, which books were worth the hype, or who's really winning game night, I've got you.
