Copyrights reserved by the author. If you are in doubt, please click on 'Copyrights' and read the details.Why the key to success is to stay disorganized by J. G. Fabiano There I sat, with about 12 colleagues around an oval table, discussing education strategies. The meeting was moving along at a crisp pace but it was also getting a bit late. Because the time allotted for the meeting was running out my principal asked when we could meet again to continue our discussion. At this point everyone around me pulled out either a leather-bound notebook calendar that had the days of the year broken up into hourly slots, or a black electronic organizer that came equipped with a little electronic pen whose job it was to inject times and dates into a tiny but powerful hard drive. After a brief mutter of conversation they were all ready to agree on a time and date for our next meeting. And then they all turned and looked at me. I think it was because I was the only one in the group who did not have either a leather-bound notebook or Palm Pilot. I realized they were all waiting for me to put something on the table in front of me. All I could do was pull out my wallet, open it up and take out an old Hannaford's receipt that had somehow found it way into my wallet from months ago, when I was asked by my wife to buy some chicken, and put it on the table in front of me. After a few seconds of total silence my principal told me that, after everyone else decided when the next meeting would take place, she would make sure to contact me the day before the meeting. She then added with a smile that she would contact me an hour before the meeting and make sure I arrived by escorting me to the conference room. At this point everyone laughed and, to be perfectly honest, I didn't care, because I clearly understand that I am a member of the disorganized few. A few years ago my superintendent called and asked why I never answered any of her memos. She was obviously upset with me and, if there is one person a teacher does not want to annoy, it is the superintendent of schools. I was so embarrassed I decided to check my school mailbox, which is always loaded with papers and things, and answer every memo that was in the box. About an hour later I was very proud of myself because, for the first time in 15 years, my school mailbox. At which point I was convinced I had become one of the organized many. About an hour later I was called into my superintendent's office. Walking in I was sure I was going to be complimented on my new organization skills. At first the superintendent told me she was pleased I had taken the time to answer her memos. But, with a smile, she asked why I answered a memo that was written almost three years ago. At that moment I decided never to clean out my mailbox again. Maybe this is a genetic thing. Could it be that most people have a part of their DNA structure that allows them to be organized and want everything in its place and on time? Could it be that I am one of those individuals whose genetic code mutated to the point of dyslexia when it comes to organizing one's life? Or maybe there is a primary nerve, which connects the part of the brain that organizes one's life to the part of the brain that controls one's life that does not exist in people like me. I know there is a nerve, which connects one's mouth to one's brain and when one becomes older that nerve becomes shorter because I am known to say things I thought I was only thinking, but that is a story all to itself. I also wondered if there was some sort of drug which could cure this problem. If so I hoped it would taste like scotch! My malady does not only affect my professional life, it also does a number on my personal life. For example, the only dates I usually don't forget are Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years Day. All others have a tendency to get lost amidst all the other days of the year. Last year I actually forgot Valentine's Day. All around me, whether it be in the stores, in my classroom, on television or in the newspapers, there were reminders about Valentine's Day. That morning, during coffee, my wife reminded me it was Valentine's Day by giving me my gift. Needless to say I was compared to a smooshed grub on the bottom of some very old and rotted sneakers for the next few months of my life. Birthdays are other dates I have little hope of remembering. I include my own birthday in that list because if someone would ask me during the summer months what day of the month it was I would have little hope of answering the question correctly. Hell, I sometimes forget what month it is and if someone was to ever audit my checkbook they would see a decade of years all bunched together in the same book. Like everything else in this world where there are problems there are also opportunities. Waking up every morning without a definite plan makes life more adventurous. Every day is new and unplanned even though everything else around you is organized and on some unknown time schedule. If something is scheduled that you really don't want to do it is easy for the disorganized person to state that he or she forgot to write it down. Everybody believes this of the perpetually disorganized person, whereas, the organized person can never use this as an excuse because everyone knows they are too organized to forget to do anything. So, there I sat with about 12 colleagues around an oval table, discussing education strategies, and everyone else had their dates and times set up like ducks in a row. All I had to do was scribble down some future time and date on the back of the old Hannaford's receipt that would end up lost only minutes after the meeting had ended, and nobody would expect to see me again. Looking around the table at the stern and disapproving expressions on my colleague's faces I thought the world might be a much happier place if more people were just a little more disorganized!
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