The Tidy Gene

Once in a while I wish I was a little bit less, well, me! I went to a party last night, had lots of fun and got back far too late. All I wanted to do was to crash into bed there and then. Unfortunately I couldn't even reach the bed, as the forty plus pairs of shoes that live under it had been pulled out before I went out last night, in an attempt to find the particular pair of brown sandals I was looking for. And naturally they did not get put back under the bed again.
When I had cleared those out the way and reached the bed, the next obstacle was the massive pile of underwear lying there. You see, it was a fancy dress party, and I was going as a Roman lady, in a rather see-through dress, so I needed to find white knickers. Without "sexy cow" or "grumpy but gorgeous" or candy canes all over them. A year ago this would have been easy, as about 80% of my knickers were white cotton or black cotton BORINGNESS. Now of course, they have been consigned to the very bottom of the drawer, but trying to find them meant getting out every other pair that I owned first. And not putting them away again...
Once the underwear was gone, I then needed to clear away the make-up - all two bags full of it that had been emptied onto the bed looking for a particular eyeshadow.
So after 20 minutes of clearing up, I could eventually get into bed for a well-deserved sleep full of lovely, kinky dreams.
But I wish I hadn't had to wait that extra 20 minutes. Why did I not inherit the tidyness gene from my mother?