Junk drawer taxonomy

You've got one. Maybe more than one. Any drawer can become the designated disorganized storage space for stuff we might need someday.

I am about to set to the task of cleaning one (and only one at this time) junk drawer. But which one?

And don't worry, I am not going to catalog the contents...this is supposed to be the Happiness Notebook, not the Narcissist Times-Dispatch.

You might ask why cover this topic? Well, there is something oddly liberating about cleaning out and organizing a junk drawer. I think that if I do one at a time, every week or so, then I'll feel freer than ever when I am done. Yeah, I have more than one junk drawer.

But what I call a junk drawer might not be what you thought of as a junk drawer. My definition is broad, but reasonable. Junk drawers can be found anywhere there are drawers in a home, office, shop, anywhere. Let's look at the most common types. The contents listed are not mine (I'm not getting up right now to look, trust me) and the lists are not meant to be exhaustive. Your contents will vary.

A) The Kitchen Krate: perhaps found in every home in the United States, this drawer usually contains odd utensils, rubber bands, metal or plastic garbage ties, assorted batteries, scissors, a variety of corks (one might have an ice pick or awl stuck in it,) tiny flashlight, books of matches, a stray candle or two, toothpicks, those corn cob holder things with the double sharp points, and wrapped plastic straws (with a crazy straw or two, also.)

B) The Desk Depository: found in home and office desks, this drawer is filled with stuff we have purchased at office supply stores or taken from the company's supply cabinet. They typically hold staples, paper clips, scissors, rubber bands, more than one of those biting staple removers, binder clips that are too small or too large to use, various sizes of post-it notepads, a ruler (when have you ever needed a ruler at work?), business cards from forgotten acquaintances, your own business cards with a previous job title or phone number, push pins, expired lunch coupons, pens and pencils and highlighters, a laminated info card that you've never used, and your security badge that you thought you had lost and had replaced.

C) The Toolbox Tomb: located in workshops, sheds, or garages, this can be a traditional drawer in a workbench cabinet or an entire toolbox depending on the situation. These generally store stray nuts, bolts and screws that you will never use but can't bring yourself to part with because they are in perfectly good condition and you might have a need to bolt two things together and you wouldn't have to go to the store to buy this stuff because you have these on hand, a set of allen wrenches of every conceivable size, those Torx screwdrivers that can only be used to open electronics that you really have no business opening, a wire brush for cleaning car battery posts, sockets (all of them, except for the 9/16",) two rolls of that white plumbers tape, the awl stuck in a cork which you thought you kept in the kitchen, and a used sheet of folded up 120 grit sandpaper.

D) The Sidetable Storehouse: this is the drawer located in nightstands or small living room tables. Sadly, even some dining room tables feature this type of drawer, which I think is intended for placemats and napkin rings, but winds up housing your incense stick holder, a couple of Target receipts and your pre-teen's collection of D&D dice. The other versions are loaded with the forgotten important things in our lives, like the cell phone you purchased in 1994 for $1,200, the Pulitzer Prize winning paperback that you never read, and polaroid snapshots from a party that you don't recall despite the photographic evidence.

E) (last one, I promise) The Sock Drawer: located in a chest of drawers or a dresser, this is the drawer that contains far more socks than you will ever wear and many single socks that will never be reunited with their partners. How many athletic socks do you need? How many footies are too many? Do you still wear those leg warmers? Really? Socks with toes? What were you thinking when you bought the second pair of Christmas socks? Sock with holes? Gray socks that used to be black? Let's put a limit on socks. No more than eight pairs of white athletic socks, two pairs of winter wool socks, and dress socks must go with at least one pair of pants that you normally wear. (Ladies, please adjust those comments to match your needs.)

Let me know what's in your junk drawer(s) by leaving a comment. I'm off to organize my sock drawer now.