If the Right To Disorder is not already in the Constitution, it should be.

Disorder is normal.

If it weren't, we wouldn't find so much "Organize Your Life Into Oblivion" propaganda lined up all shipshape on bookstore shelves, now, would we?

When was the last time you read a book with the title "Dare to Disorder!" or "Complete Your Clutter with Feng Shui" or "Messy Desks Made Simple"? Do office supply stores tout nifty little disorganizers?

Why do we struggle so mightily against a normal state of being?

I, for one, am weary of my own pathetic attempts and the ensuing self-flagellation: How could I allow my life (and desk top condition) to spiral downward in such a messy manner? Unless I learn to categorize, label, and color-code my life, my soul is surely bound for Hell! But I'm tired of coming away filled with self-loathing after reading yet another more-organized-than-thou "How To Become Anal Ret--" er, I mean, "How To Organize" book written by some overachieving, file-cabinet-worshipping neatnik.

Imagine if a plethora of "How to Disorganize So That You Can (Eventually) Find Things" books cluttered bookstore shelves. Imagine a tidy person striving fruitlessly to realize "Dignity through Disorder". Imagine his chagrin when he painstakingly messes up the papers on his desk top, thereby achieving perfect chaos, only to turn around and find those same papers inexplicably back inside their color-coded folders, efficiently sorted into the properly labeled file drawers, and the drawers neatly shut? It would be, in a word... or two... utterly demoralizing.

This scenario is, without a doubt, the quintessential Impossible Dream. I do, however, take perverse pleasure in noting that the scores of nifty little organizers, methodically positioned about my office, have created a distinctly cluttered ambiance.

Let's see now... which organizer thing-a-ma-bob did I toss the shrink's bill into?