I’ve
finally figured out the difference between neat people and sloppy people. The
distinction is, as always, moral. Neat people are lazier and meaner than sloppy
people.
Sloppy
people, you see, are not really sloppy. Their sloppiness is merely the
unfortunate consequence of their extreme moral rectitude. Sloppy people carry
in their mind’s eye a heavenly vision, a precise plan, that is so stupendous,
so perfect, it can’t be achieved in this world or the next.
Sloppy
people live in Never-Never Land. Someday is their métier. Someday they are
planning to alphabetize all their books and set up home catalogs. Someday they
will go through their wardrobes and mark certain items for tentative mending
and certain items for passing on to relatives of similar shape and size.
Someday sloppy people will make family scrapbooks into which they will put
newspaper clippings, postcards, locks of hair, and the dried corsage from their
senior prom. Someday they will file everything on the surface of their desk,
including the cash receipts from coffee purchases at the snack shop. Someday
they will sit down and read all the back issues of The New Yorker.
For
all these noble reasons and more, sloppy people never get neat. They aim too
high and wide. They save everything, planning someday to file, order, and
straighten out the world. But while these ambitious plans take clearer and
clearer shape in their heads, the books spill from the shelves onto the floor,
the clothes pile up in the hamper and closet, the family mementos accumulate in
every drawer, the surface of the desk is buried under mounds of paper and the
unread magazines threaten to reach the ceiling.
Sloppy
people can’t bear to part with anything. They give loving attention to every
detail. When sloppy people say they’re going to tackle the surface of the desk,
they really mean it. Not a paper will go unturned; not a rubber band will go
unboxed. Four hours or two weeks into their excavation, the desk looks exactly
the same, primarily because the sloppy person is meticulously creating new
piles of papers with new headings and scrupulously stopping to read all the old
book catalogs before he throws them away. A neat person would just bulldoze the
desk.
Neat
people are burns and clods at heart. They have cavalier attitudes towards
possessions, including family heirlooms. Everything is just another
dust-catcher to them. If anything collects dust, it’s got to go and that’s
that. Neat people will toy with the idea of throwing the children out of the
house just to cut down on the clutter.
Neat
people don’t care about process. They like results. What they want to do is get
the whole thing over with so they can sit down and watch the rasslin’ on TV.
Neat people operate on two unvarying principles : Never handle any item twice,
and throw everything away.
The
only thing messy in a neat person’s house is the trash can. the minute
something comes to a neat person’s hand, he will look at it, try to decide if
it has immediate use and, finding none, throw it in the trash.
Neat
people are especially vicious with mail. They never go through their mail
unless they are standing directly over a trash can. If the trash can is beside
the mailbox, even better. All ads, catalogs, pleas for charitable
contributions, church bulletins and money-saving coupons go straight into the
trash can without being opened. All letters from home, postcards from Europe,
bills and paychecks are opened, immediately responded to, then dropped in the
trash can. Neat people keep their receipts only for tax purposes. That’s it. No
sentimental salvaging of birthday cards or the last letter a dying relative
ever wrote. Into the trash it goes.
Neat
people place neatness above everything, even economics. They are incredibly
wasteful. Neat people throw away several toys every time they walk through the
den. I knew a neat person once who threw away a perfectly good dish drainer
because it had mold on it. The drainer was too much trouble to wash. And neat
people sell their furniture when they move. They will sell a La-Z-Boy recliner
while you are reclining in it.
Neat
people are no good to borrow from. Neat people buy everything in expensive
little single portions. They get their flour and sugar in two-pound bags. They
wouldn’t consider clipping a coupon, saving a leftover, reusing plastic
nondairy whipped cream containers or rinsing off tin foil and draping it over
the unmoldy dish drainer. You can never borrow a neat person’s newspaper to see
what’s playing at the movies. Neat people have the paper all wadded up and in
the trash by 7.05 A.M.
Neat
people cut a clean swath through the organic as well as the inorganic world.
People, animals, and things are all one to them. They are so insensitive. After
they’ve finished with the pantry, the medicine cabinet, and the attic, they
will throw out the red geranium (too many leaves), sell the dog (too many
fleas), and send the children off to boarding school (too many scuff marks on
the hardwood floors).
(860 words)
Reference:
Brit, S. (2001). Neat People vs. Sloppy People. In L. Brandon,
Paragraphs and Essays: a worktext with readings (pp. 255-257). Boston:
Houghton Mifflin Company.
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