One of the side-effects of long-term web designing is a throbbing, unyielding urge to arrange everything like a website. I go to restaurants, and while I'm scanning the menu I'm mentally moving the item headers (appetizers, entrees, sandwiches, beverages) into a left-side navigation bar. This is a lot like when you play Tetris for three hours before bed and can't get those falling blocks out of your head when you close your eyes.
I have loads of stuff -- photos, comic strips, magnet letters, greeting cards -- attached to the front of our refrigerator, and I am way anal about the placement of each item. Marc thinks it's hilarious to rearrange them in a wholly chaotic fashion, because he knows that I won't be able to sleep at night if items on the freezer door are askew.
I am also a complete nutcase about how items are arranged on the dining room table *. And the top of the buffet. And the coffee table. I am not at all concerned with the organization of, say, my closet, or the contents of the kitchen utensil drawer. The other day I finally realized why. The freezer door, the tables, the buffet ... they're all rectangular areas with stuff on them. Websites are rectangular areas with stuff on them. This means that even when I'm standing in the kitchen trying to decide whether to make chicken or pasta, in the back of my head, I'm still designing fucking websites.
* Just ask Marc what happens when he moves the goddamned vase.
posted by Kate at 4:55 PM link/comments
