My Journey From Thought On Paper
“I pulled out box after box, setting them haphazardly around the room. My organization lacked something -- like, say, organization ...” – Richelle Mead
If anyone were to walk into my room, on the fourth floor of Creswell or back on my home street of Rosebrook Crossing in Atlanta, they would find a large, dirty, and unorganized mess. My room has been this way since I was old enough to have control over the domain of my room, and despite many protest and attempts by my parents to change this there has been no evidence of this actually occurring. The conclusion that my loved ones, or anyone that really knows me, and I have made is that I am inherently a functionally unorganized person. Despite my unorganized nature I never lose things, and I always find a way to finish the task. This connects to one of my biggest lifelong struggles in writing. I understand how to make an outline and use the simple introduction, body and conclusion structure but my struggles are in formulating and organizing all the ideas in my go everywhere at once brain into a coherent and polished essay.
My father’s favorite word to describe me is a “slob.” My bed is never made, clothes scatter my floor, and organizers and planners just do not work for me. In fact, at this very moment, all my clothes are in my laundry hamper clean as I see no need to move them to the drawers. To a normal person this might seem inefficient or lazy, but I am not a normal…