The semester is officially over so there is absolutely no reason for this mess. My writing space is littered with books, notebooks, receipts, pictures, you name it. I could at least stack the mess in a neat pile. It is to the point where I am tripping over things and crinkling papers that are important. For example, as I was kicking a manila folder underneath this bookshelf the other day, something caught my eye. It was my birth certificate. The scary thing is that the above picture only shows one of the four bookshelves I have...and every single one of them has a junkyard of paperwork surrounding it. I wish I were the type of person who slid a book from the neat bookshelf, read it, and put it back, but I'm clearly not that person. Instead I snatch a book, read part of it, and then put it on the floor (perhaps even on the washer or dryer).
2 comments:
I have about 12 different books on my nightstand. And another 12 out on my desk. I'm just as bad Jen. The other day I saw poems I'd written while in high school. The made me sick to read. But I'll clean the mess up before I die.
That's a liberating thought, Frank. Me, too. I'll clean up before I die.
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