I don't know the exact second I stopped caring about app folders, but I think it was during the pandemic. I just couldn't bring myself to spend half an iota of energy on organizing my apps.

First, a confession: I'm not an organized person. It's always been hard for me to keep everything in its place. I have gotten marginally better at it for the sake of co-existing with my partner, but it's not something that comes natural.

So, I never really got much enjoyment out of app folders, or any sort of organization, on my phone's home screen. I once saw a person who color coded their apps by page and it threw me for a loop — that might as well have been climbing Everest in my mind.

We here at Mashable have even suggested ways to organize apps in the past, using everything from verb-based folders, to alphabetical order, to folders labeled with emoji.

Apple debuted folders for the iPhone in 2010 and I've used them roughly ever since because iPhones are the sole smartphone I've owned. At first, folders felt super useful. There were only so many apps on my phone and it kept things look tidy. They allowed me to see my phone background clearly. But with time, every damn thing had an app. My laundry is now run by an app — I literally can't wash my clothes without it. Using folders to neatly organize my countless apps — many of which, granted, I hardly use — felt impossible. It felt more like a task than a useful tool, and finding the apps became more difficult, not easier.

So, eventually, some combination of the pandemic and my natural state led me to the ethos of fuck it. No folders, no semblance of order, no here's where my food apps are, here's transportation, here's messaging. No wondering if Snapchat is social media or messaging. No worries over keeping my phone neatly organized. No gods, no masters.

Here, look upon my works and despair. (And, by the way, this is just three pages of many on my phone, all cluttered with apps.)

And you know what? This home screen chaos has made my life better. Peacock under my laundry app? Sure. TikTok and Zillow? Why not. Cheesesteak restaurant with package tracking? Makes sense.

As an unorganized person, it just works better for me. Instead of rambling through different folders trying to find the app I need, my brain goes into autopilot and swipes to the page and, bam, opens the app.

You know that kid in school who had the binder stuffed with haggard-looking papers? Crumpled assignments sandwiched between rulers, open pens, and sheets from semesters ago. But then, somehow, they always turned up exactly the piece of paper they needed? That was me.

My phone's screen is just the latest version of that. Yes, it's a mess, but it's mymess. And running off muscle memory and a wide-open display works better for me than everything has a place and every place has its thing.

I mean, if worst comes to worst, I just swipe down and search for what I need, which I suppose I could've done with my apps in folders — but then I would've had to have wasted time putting my apps in folders. Everything is chaos on my phone, and to me, that's beautiful. I have given up control and, in that act, found my own little form of organization.