This is my bedroom. Is it sloppy?  I find it miraculous I can see floor space.  Lots of floor space. 

Not so long ago, I was a major slob.  I think I’ve turned over a new leaf.  I’m a minor slob.  A semi-reformed slob.

I am the queen of piles.  My clothes never seem to make it into the closet.  You know what I wear every day from what you see on the floor.  Fancy dresses and someday-I’ll-wear-thats are in the closet. 

My bed is always unmade.  What’s the point? I’ll mess it up anyway.  It’s not like I’m going to show off my bed.  Look everyone, my beautifully arranged bed!  Whatever.

But I’m proud of this picture.  I used to have a bedroom with no indication of a floor.  Errant piles of bills, groupings of shopping bags, books strewn about, lone socks collecting dust bunnies.  You could wade in it.  I think I even slept on it.  It was deplorable.  I’ve mentioned before that my truest and dearest were the only ones allowed to bear witness to my dirty secret.  An utmost compliment, really.

Now I post a picture on the internet, feeling comfortable.  A nice balance of controlled chaos.  Definable piles.  Perhaps I’ll evolve into becoming a neat person.  Oh my lands.

One of my favorite girlhood movies is Sleeping Beauty.  In one scene, the cottage is clean with a flick of fairy-godmother wand.  Why can’t I have a wand?

But a catalyzing idea has trickled into my slob brain.  Mise en place.  It’s a french term used in cooking, meaning “everything in place”. 

This trickling is primarily due to my job.  In a restaurant, things should be prepped to the nth degree.  Or you’re in for it.  Ideally, you should have everything at your fingertips so you can bang out dish after dish while barely blinking.  Otherwise, you’re prepping while cooking and cursing to yourself.  Orders back up.  But you still do it anyway.  Improvisation comes into play and you do what you can. 

The perfect example of mise en place is a stir-fry.  All vegetables are chopped neatly ahead of time.  Bottles and piles of ingredients are lined up to dive into the skillet.   If something is out of place, there is no time because it happens so fast.  Mmm…wimpy overcooked carrots.  Close but no cigar. 

I started my stir-fry with a bit of olive and sesame oil.  I love sesame oil so much I wish I could bathe in it.  Drink shots of it.  Inhale it.  Dump it on my head.

I toasted sesame seeds and threw in microplaned ginger and garlic.  I added  veggies, tossing in small glugs of soy sauce and rice vinegar.  It was finished with a little chili powder.  Well-prepared. Very satisfying.  Order does have its pleasures.