The Word of Remedy

A pattern or a photo envelope?
I know you think it's the old fashioned way.
That's not what matters now. I feel a dope,
because I can't find what I put away.

The notebooks with recycling are mixed,
and memos that were made to guide my day,
are nowhere to be found. Can this be fixed?
I guess that hated word will now hold sway.

No more can unnamed clutter be endured,
nor aimlessness with purpose be disguised.
It's ruthlessly this malady be cured;
I'll bite the bullet and get "organized."