24/4/97

The organization bug

    In Rivka Ester Rothstein's perfect world, everything has a place - and the best place for The Jerusalem Post is the garbage dump.
   
Rothstein is a professional - and by her own admission, compulsive - organizer.
   
ג€œLet's talk about your mess,ג€ she'll say, workmanlike but with a throaty laugh, loosening up a client's penchant for embarrassment.
   
One of her biggest bugbears: stacks of stale news. ג€œA lot of people have an issue about saving newspapers. I told one woman that everything she needed was on CD-ROM, so she agreed to part with the papers. That's one of my favorite things, throwing old Jerusalem Posts in the trash.ג€
I am not offended, I assure her.
   
ג€œAnother woman had Martha Meisels columns from 1979 on buying fridges. She insisted: 'What if I want to buy a fridge at some point?' But lady, I said, they don't make 'em anymore!ג€
   
You can just imagine how a person like this found a calling like that. ג€œI had a roommate. After living with me for a whileג€ -- Rothstein rolls her eyes in genial self-deprecation ג€“ ג€œshe said, 'Rivka Ester, you should do this for a living.ג€™ ''
  
She can't help herself: when she steps into someone's home, she gets the itch to rearrange. ג€œI'll say: 'Gee, I hope you don't mind me saying this, but what if you threw this stuff out and put that here, and this there, you'd solve a problem you probably don't even know you have.' ג€
   
Scary, isn't it: I mean, imagine being married to a compulsive organizer. Ah, but there is a catch: she's not neurotic, and she's good-humored about it all.
   
Rothstein, 42, likes her husband Yehuda's shirts neatly arranged: ג€œLong-sleeved whites, then blues, then yellows, then the short-sleeved whites and blues and yellows.ג€ Frankly, he could do without it. On the other hand, she didn't harangue him when he left a pile of cough-drop wrappers by his bedside for a few months. Obviously, they've only been married a short time (a year-and-a-half).
   
ג€œOne of my character defects -- and my husband will vouch for this -- is my penchant for asserting control. But what Iג€™ve done is turn my defect into a profession. I actually get paid for telling people how to live their lives, and if they listen or not, I go home happy.ג€
   
She says she's not obsessed; just, um, a bit tidy. She sees obsession in some of her clients, and often finds good use for her background in counseling.
   
Sometimes, though, there's nothing she can do.
   
ג€œOne family, very well-to-do, had a built-in closet for each of the children.
   
And each had a drawer only for the pajamas. I said to the mother, how many pajamas do you think they need? And she says, 'A dozen?' I finally got them down to six pairs each. I went back the next week, and each child had four more pairs of brand-new pajamas.ג€
You have to wonder about some people.
  
ג€œI was hired by a woman who wanted me for her husband. I did a great job with him, we threw away probably 85 percent of what was stacked there. And I look around and think, she's calling me because he's a slob? I mean, there were vegetables on the TV table!
   
ג€œI did work on a kitchen, a woman who actually gave lessons in homemaking. And I had to tell her: 'look, the fancy tea set you take out once every three years shouldn't be sitting in prime cupboard space.' I mean, I had to tell her this?ג€
  
Rothstein's work can get pretty intimate, which for a newly-Orthodox woman can be a mite awkward sometimes. ג€œI once got a call for help from a male friend, and found myself face to face with a drawerful of very weird underwear.ג€

THERE ARE four reasons why people hire an organizer: ג€œThey're too busy, they may not have the knack or know-how, they may feel overwhelmed, or they're too isolated.ג€
   
She's worked for parents ג€œwho can't communicate with their disorganized teenagers; I deal with people's financial lives, getting their paperwork in order. I get calls from mothers-in-law to go straighten out the slobs their children married, but I don't take that kind of job. I've had sweet experiences with older people who are getting ready to ... part. It's very tender, because they know what they need to do.
  
ג€œI can work with all of them because I'm not emotionally attached.ג€
   
The ABCs of attacking a mess are simple: ג€œJust do it. Start somewhere. Pick up the first armful and you're on the way.ג€
  
She'll instruct a client to categorize: ג€œHere, here, here, here, or garbage.ג€
  
Do it, she says, and you'll feel good about yourself.
ג€œWe like order. Orderliness contributes to tranquillity. Though some people can't work unless they have a chaotic environment, most people function best when they know where everything is.ג€
As in, honey, where'd ya put the spittoon?
  
Rothstein has a shot-glass of advice for everything: a little shelf here, plastic baskets there. You need so many pens on your desk? A touchy subject:
   
children's arts-and-crafts projects; you can't throw 'em out, and you don't want them cluttering up the house. ג€œKids sometimes bring home these hideous things from ceramics class,ג€ she says -- then notices, on the side table in my living room, my children's hideous things from ceramics class. ג€œKeep the best, and take a picture of the rest and put it in a scrap book. Or send some to the grandparents, they love that kind of stuff.ג€
   
Israelis like sparsity and are fastidiously tidy -- inside the house. Rothstein doesn't even bother advertising in the Hebrew press. Her best customers? ג€œAnglos. We're used to more space and more acquisitions.ג€
You'll be glad to know Rothstein has a skeleton in her own closet: one disorderly storage room visitors aren't allowed to see.
She has a long explanation for why this cobbler is shoeless, but it doesn't change the fact she has a messy room. What's important, however, is that she's at peace with it.
   
Rothstein has a heimishe mix of Bronx bluntness and Jewish consciousness, perfect for the professional organizer. But even when she's off-duty, well, sometimes she just can't help herself. After our interview, we stepped out into a light drizzle. She looked at me and frowned disapprovingly. ג€œLook, I'm not your mother,ג€ she said, ג€œbut put on a coat.ג€