If I could find my camera I would take a picture of my room.
Where I am sitting now, and where I sit and write every morning.
But I can’t find my camera because it is buried under a tsuanmi of papers and other crappola on my dainty little Lady’s Desk, which is tucked under a dormer window where I never, ever sit and work. (Because said desk is always piled with rubbish.)
Back in November, the downspouts were filled with leaves. In order to dislodge them, G had to have access to this window, which meant that I had to clear the desk. So, I found a laundry basket and summarily dumped all the papers, magazines, receipts, media cards, junk mail, etc. into it in one fell scoop. There. Done! (She swipes hands here.)
She then splayed herself across the desk, and gradually inched her body out over the roof holding onto a 10 foot roof rake. I held her ankles so she wouldn’t fall to a bloody and tragic death, because I am the kind of person who is totally into “Safety First.”
And it worked! The leaves dislodged, the gutters cleared and all was right with the world.
But yesterday (3 months later) that laundry basket with desk crap?
And, quel suprise, a whole new pile of stuff has now grown to replace the original pile which is still in the laundry basket.
For the past two days I have been setting a timer for 1 hour and trying to deal with it. But it’s getting worse, not better.
I did find the labeler, though. That’s progress, right?