The Slob BlogBecause slobs need love too!

Some friends and I decided to try to tackle one of our favorite ass-kicker hikes this weekend.  We would meet at 9:00am (Yuk!!!) and drive an hour and a half to Mt. Baldy, one of the highest peaks in LA county.  Already annoyed at having to rise before noon on a Saturday, I employed my own infinite stupidity and suckertude (oh yeah, it’s a word now!) by offering to drive to the mountain.

I didn’t really think they’d take me up on it.  I generally dislike driving other people in my car, because it involves removing the mountains of crap I carry around with me at all times, and moving it to less conspicuous locations (ideally, the trash can).  I also assume that people will turn me down when I offer to drive, because they usually don’t WANT to ride around in my unwashed vehicle, while sitting next to my random bits of clutter.  This is also often the case, because I like to make friends with control freaks who are uncomfortable while others are at the wheel.  Their anal retentiveness also means that I usually don’t have to make the plans, start the phone tree, or bring a map.  Having super-neurotic friends is really the only way to go.  Type-A all the way! (That’s my little cheer I just made up, but I think I’ll start throwing into conversations to show my support)

I parked my car at the meeting spot and popped my trunk so we could start loading up all the daypacks.  One of my friends said, “Amy, I don’t know how you drive around with your trunk like that.”  I said, “Like what?”  At first, I genuinely didn’t know what she was referring to.  My trunk looked perfectly normal to me.

Then I realized that she must have been implying that my trunk was full of stuff.   My suspicions were confirmed when she said, “Your trunk is so full of stuff.”  I said, “But my trunk is half-empty.”  I didn’t just say this to sound like an optimist; there really was a lot of room still available in my trunk, and I’ve had it way fuller in the past.  So by comparison, it looked quite roomy to me.  Plus we were able to fit all the backpacks back there, and I was surprised, pleased, and very proud of that fact.

Frankly, not only did I feel snubbed when nobody applauded the whole backpack fitting situation, I was doubly irked that they had totally disregarded the general lack of “stuff” in the rest of the car.  How was I supposed to even accomplish that without moving the clutter from the car cab to the trunk? It had to go somewhere.  Matter can’t just disappear, and even if it could, I’m pretty sure it would cause a black hole that would be a lot less fun to drive around with than a little clutter.  (I may be a slob, but I am totally up on my science facts)

So the lesson here is, that if you want praise for your skillfully slovenly ways, you’d better just praise yourself, because it’s not the type of thing friends appreciate the way we’d like them to.  The other option of course, is to demand praise while making inappropriate threats.  A good threat that I’ve been using since kindergarten is that I won’t be their friend anymore.  You can use that one too…I don’t mind sharing.

Being Organized Means Having More Time with Friends and Family

No way.  A lot of organization and productivity techniques ask you to prioritize work over chitchat and socializing. How many friend do you think you’d have left if you always put work first?  Exactly.  You may be a slob, but at least people like you.

The other night I went down town to see a show with a friend.  We each parked on the street, then took the mythical LA Metro (which is not as mythical as I expected) in order to avoid a parking cluster f***.  When we got back later in the evening, she asked me if she could hitch a ride back to her car.

I said, “Sure as long as…”

Without missing a beat she shouted, “I KNOW THERE’S TRASH IN THE CAR!”

A wave of pride swept over me (after, of course, a brief wave of thinking my friend was psychic).  Clearly, I have done such a thorough job of communicating my slobitude to friends, that I have completely eliminated the need to warn them about it.  They expect nothing less than an expert level of disorganized, cluttered, slobtasticness!!!

I love it!

Making those obligatory phone calls to keep in touch with friends is something I generally put off doing.  Mostly because they tend to take too long, and partially because I’m a major jerk who probably doesn’t deserve to have any friends.

You have to admit, though, that the longer it’s been since you’ve last talked to someone, the longer you know you’ll have to stay on the phone with them catching up.  An organized person would probably say that you should just call them more often to keep that from happening.  But who has the time to do that?

I say, do what I do.  Put the call off until A) The person has gotten so fed up with you that they dump you as a friend…meaning no more long phone calls yay!!! or B) You’re faced with a task that is so loathsome, that making those phone calls sounds like a great way to avoid doing it.

I have managed to keep most of my friends by choosing B) almost every time.  Making long-winded phone calls to long lost friends is a fantastic way to avoid doing my least favorite task of all: work.  Thank you, my dear friends, for pouring over every minute detail of your dating lives to such an extent that I’ll never have worry about falling victim to a bout of unintentional productivity.  I don’t know what this slob would do without you!