CDCDs?

I am not an anal guy. I do not sort by socks by type, color, density, and wear condition. I do not sort my shirts by type, color, and whether they smell funny. When I wore ties, I did not...well, you get the idea.

But I do like order. I like knowing where things are. They don't have to be exactly where they were, last time I saw them, but they ought to be in the vicinity. In our refrigerator, the milk goes on the lower right shelf; the meats go on the second left shelf, the eggs are right next to them and against the wall. When we buy vegetables, they go into the vegetable drawer, which is also where the unopened soft butter is. And if I find the occasional tomato or celery or whatever lying around in the refrigerator, pop, into that drawer it goes. Leftovers are on the second right shelf. Coffee's in the bottom left. Order.

Its not that big a deal to my wife. Her parent's refrigerator is, well, chaotic. Could be on the door, could be behind the milk, might be on the bottom. On cold, cold days, some stuff is out on the unheated patio. So she learned, growing up, to be creative in where she put things, and she doesn't mind looking in odd places. Not me. I like predictability. Standards. Order.

So when I was lying on the couch today, reading, and my wife said 'Where are those blank CDs we bought?', I said, instantly, that they were either in the tall cabinet next to the envelopes and the white metal tray that holds the numerous small things that had been cluttering the cabinet (order...ahhh) or they were on the closet shelf next to the other PC materials, the file folders, and the spare mouse. Only....they weren't.

Twenty minutes later, I had gone through the entire cabinet, and the entire shelf, including moving several folders (muttering Why the hell do we still have these things here?), and I did not find them. And I still haven't found them. But thats okay. Well, kind of. Because it lead to a mildly intense conversation where I emphasized that when I swear and complain about things like that, I really, really, really am not thinking that its my wife's responsibility to keep things neat, and why isn't she doing that? Which is apparently how it came across. I really don't think that, and now -- I think -- she believes it. She knows I like neatness, but now I hope she knows that this doesn't mean that if things aren't neat, I think it's her fault. Sometimes, it is; sometimes, it's me. And sometimes, its my daughter. But she's not the Keeper of Neat, and she's not responsible for keeping things neat, orderly, or clean.

Now, if I could just find those damn blank CDs.....