You can even organize your hair.

Whenever people laugh at me for putting a high priority on organizing stuff, I tell them that when my stuff is a mess, it usually means my life is a mess. Sometimes, getting the mess in order can at least symbolically start getting my life in order. That's the main reason why I like my stuff clean, simple, and organized. Yeah, it's all about control, but at least I admit it.

So, when my stuff gets out of control, that bothers me. Recently, I've been aware that when my personal appearance gets out of control, that bothers me too. For example, when my hair situation is such that I can make a hobby of picking split ends, the bathroom floor has a veritable brunette carpet, I have to dump Dran-o down the shower regularly every two weeks to clear the hair clogs, and I'm not even bothering with anything but a ponytail anymore, I finally realize it is time for a haircut.

So, I haul myself and my gigantic hair over to Leon's to visit Amy. Amy takes one disapproving look at me and says, "You haven't been blow drying, have you?" Uh... actually, I did blow dry this morning, but it probably didn't count, since there was no styling involved. (Try getting 8 pounds of hair dry. You won't want to style it afterwards either.) So, I tell Amy to chop it all. I want it jaw-length, layered, thinned, and parted on the side.

Half an hour and seven inches later, I have organized hair, and my life feels like it's in better order.