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Messy Desk

My desk is a mess. How does this happen? I look away for a moment and suddenly the catalogs have spawned all over it and the letter from the middle school has mated with the sex ed pamphlet and the post-it notes are taking over and where was that notebook I was using? It’s horrid.

Of course, it was horrid yesterday, too. Today I am noticing it, probably because my plans include some actual work. Nothing like the prospect of accomplishing something to bring the small but annoying to the forefront.

Here’s the good news. It won’t take long to make it better. A quick flip through the catalogs and a transfer into the traditional Christmas-is-coming-faster-than-you-know pile and most of the problem will be dealt with, or at least moved off the desk. Five minutes deciding which papers need to be filed and which can go to the blue recycling can of no return should open up whole vistas of desk surface.

That’s also the bad news. The messiness is no excuse for not doing the work.

On the third hand (Isn’t it weird to say that? And yet, it’s even weirder that the third hand on a clock is the second hand. Language is fun.), I will make a whole new mess on my desk today. Because, she says, committing herself irrevocably to producing some kind of results, the big project of the day involves looking at a series of photos I took a while back with an eye to making a poem cycle, and writing some poem drafts. I need to reveal the wood of the desk so I can cover it with slippery slips of paper.

I think it’s going to be fun.

And if it isn’t, that’s okay. I also get to go to ballet today.



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June 2012
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