That is the name of the disease I suffer from. I have terminal, fatal, absolutely incurable and destructive disorganitis. I can't keep track of anything, I lose half of my possessions. I pile things up until I can't stand it, and then I can't find anything in the chaos. People try to help me, offer advice, give me ideas and suggestions, and they work for about a day. And then they don't work for more than that day... and I'm back to being disorganized to death. I am literally stressed out beyond all reason about this. I'm losing important things, missing deadlines because stuff gets covered up... I don't know what to do!
This pretty much stinks.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)

No comments:
Post a Comment