My husband won't be happy when he comes home from his business trip later this week and sees what I have done. I invaded his space in a way he finds annoying. I got him organized again.

Earlier in the summer I gathered stacks of my husband's customers' business cards from around our house while he was out of town and placed them into clear page protectors (alphabetically, of course) in a three ring binder. The business card collection is huge and I figured my husband could be more efficient and save time by having them neatly in order in one place.

When he came home and saw the binder, he was silent. I was proud of my work and excited. I asked him if he was happy to have the handy business card binder so that he could flip to customer information quickly. He replied, "Yeah. I guess so." Why the lack of enthusiasm?

I recently read on YourHub a poster's article about opposites drawn to each other who sometimes end up in marriages. I can relate. Clutter causes me anxiety. I want to know exactly where something is at the moment I need it. Searching for stuff makes me mad. Neatness and order comfort me. I know the ugly label for my sort. Control freak. My husband, on the other hand, stacks stuff, hoards stuff, lets stuff pile up in corners. He runs chronically late, too, primarily because he has to waste precious time searching for the things he needs. There is a label for his sort, too.

Today I needed a simple cupboard hook to hang something. I went to the garage, the Man Zone, and began to open drawers, cabinet doors, unlabeled coffee cans and boxes hoping to find one little hook. I must have spent twenty minutes rifling through containers of nails, screws, bolts, and an array of parts before locating the hook I needed. It occurred to me I could make sense of the garage mess, especially since my husband is not here to stop me.

I dove in. I sorted. I stacked. I organized. I even printed labels.

Ahhhh. I now sit smugly admiring my work. A place for everything and everything in its place. Who could ask for more?

I'll be glad when my husband gets home later in the week. However, I dread the moment he sees the application of my organizational skills in the Man Zone. I am not going to kid myself and hope for an enthusiastic show of appreciation. The best possible outcome, I think, will be he does not banish me from the Man Zone forever.