The bedroom boasts a bow front antique mahogany chest of drawers. It was the first grown up purchase we made as a married couple. We couldn’t afford it, but bought it all the same. Interest free, hire purchase.
Inside one of it’s empty drawers I found an old button. Fabric covered, weft and warp worn from years of hiding.
I imagined this new very serious piece of furniture would make me into a neat drawer person. Carefully I folded and arranged all my clothing.
Over the next few weeks I not so carefully shoved clothing items into the drawers and stacked its top with all manner of stuff.
My drawers are still stuffed full. In no particular order. Every year I decide enough is enough and sort them out. Remove clothing items not worn. Make neat orderly piles. Fold to perfection. I open and close drawers with ease and a smile. I find wanted tops or jeans at a glance.
Then I undo all my good organised work. Drawers protest at being closed. Clothes scrunch and hide. Undies get lost as they fall down the back of the drawers.
I wonder, will I one day have neat orderly drawers? Will I one day find need to have things in sectioned neatness? Or will there always be a rebellious teenager living inside me and my drawers?