About a year after Jennifer and I started working together on the marketing consulting front, my good friend Sara decided to strike out on her own. She formed a company called Neat, and it was like Sara and her new venture were a match made in a heaven. Sara’s calm demeanor, her love for all things organized, and her desire to help people who are organizationally challenged (did you know there is actually a disorder called Chronically Disorganized??? Yeah, there is) melded perfectly into a sweet delicious career.
I remember those days fondly because we worked together a lot, trading marketing advice for organizational help in our 2nd office on Franklin Street. We had many long lunches where the three of us strategized about taking over the world of Richmond in our various ways. It was exciting to be in start-up mode with someone else, especially one I respected so much.
Sara has come a long way since then - she has a podcast on iTunes, she has headed the local NAPO chapter here, and she mentors people whenever they need it. She’s got certifications out the wazoo, and she’s worked with people that would within 30 seconds make me slightly insane. And she actually ENJOYS it. Although she seemed a bit shy when I first met her, she has turned into a master networker and knows the ins and outs of this weird town we both call home.

Sara helped me a few times around my house, although she focuses primarily on businesses. She did me a favor and organized my very first playroom. She took the disaster that was the room and laid out a floor plan, ordered all the stuff for me from Ikea and Container Store, hung everything, labelled everything, and most importantly, taught me the “whys” behind where she put things. It was fascinating to watch the way her mind worked. She watched the girls play, then organized their toys into places they could reach - logical places. My idea, until that point, had been wandering around Target, randomly pulling baskets or storage shelves and placing them equally as randomly into whatever room I was bothered by the most. I’d never learned to do it with forethought or planning. It was the ultimate. I gave her a budget, she spent my money, and suddenly I had a playroom to end all playrooms.
In this way, I’m very much my mother’s daughter. My house is usually pretty neat - but open a drawer, especially in the bedrooms or kitchen, let alone my closet, and you have a bit of chaos. I suck at filing - I hate it - so unless I have a system, everything just piles up. When I saw how Sara had magically transformed the playroom, I started foaming at the mouth. I would have spent half our income at Container Store if Mike hadn’t reeled me back in by asking how organizing the attic would help if we couldn’t pay the mortgage. I reasoned that if the playroom made me feel more calm (I dreaded picking up at night a lot less), perhaps I should keep going until my organizing frenzy resulted in a permament state of Om. I started siccing her on the garage. Then she helped with my bathroom. I sent her to my parent’s - she organized their pantry. At that point, I did my closet on my own, following the guidelines she’d showed me.
This past weekend, Mike and I both went on an organizing binge. The closets were getting unmanageable again, and as I worked, I realized how profound of an impact Sara’s had on me. Now, instead of just “cleaning” everything (meaning shoving the same items into the old places), I actually sort through them, figure out what I really need, and then look at the space I have to work with. It doesn’t sound like a big deal, but when my house is chaotic, I feel chaotic. Bringing some order to my filing system and hme office were imperative for me to be able to be effiicient.
Best of all, Sara just announced she’s pregnant - so pretty soon I’ll be able to bounce her little monkey like she used to bounce mine. I can’t wait to see if she manages to hold onto her sanity, as well as her fantastic ability to transform people and places, once the newest Bereika arrives. I’m sure she’ll make it look like it’s no big deal. That’s just how she rolls.


