(Not) being organised

We recently had friends staying. The wife, A,  is a very  organised, person (she says she's "on the specturm", but then I guess we all are). In her life, everything is tidy; nothing's out of place.

Now, I like and admire A very much. I would love to be like her. Really. So I asked her advice. When I showed her the contents of a random drawer, she was appalled.

A:"Ginseng? What's that doing in this drawer?" she asked. "Do you use it?"
Me: "Well, not exactly..." (when/why have we ever used it? Why did we even buy it in the first place?)
A:"Well, then, Throw it away!"
Me:"Mmm..." (I suddenly feel very attached to that ginseng)
A: "And this selotape, and string, and aspirins. Why are they all together?" (There is also my granny's old sewing box, circa 1900 and falling to pieces, and drawing pins, and half a candle, and a small glass candle-holder and...you get the picture).

For the week or so after they left, I  kept looking at my muddled possessions and thinking: "what would A do?". I went through my 'wardrobe' (ha) of ancient clothing, thinking of the Oxfam shop, and then put almost everything back again, because...well, I just couldn't somehow let go, although I almost certain won't wear many of the clothes again. Besides, you never know, do you? That nursing uniform, for instance. I might need it for a fancy dress party. (I never go to fancy dress parties.)

My conclusion is that sadly, I shall never be like A. .And the reason? To put it baldly, I simply don't care enough. It's as simple as that.

But I did wash and iron two lovely linen tops that I don't wear, and take them to the Oxfam shop. And the ginseng's in the bin. So I'm not all  bad.