My Messy Office

Is there a desk under there?
Is there a desk under there?

Just finished writing a short scene, and was about to start the next, when I made the mistake of gazing around my inner sanctum. Bad mistake — now I’m distracted by the mess. Over the past few weeks I’ve accomplished new heights of domestic godliness in all rooms except this one. I scrubbed, dusted, organized, vacuumed, and even carpet-cleaned. (Yes, I rented an actual machine.)

Except for the rugs, my industrious spurt did not extend to the office. The cleaning task is a burning imperative at this point. Unfortunately, I’m intimidated by my paper piles. Too many of them, and — I cheated! —

Sacrilege! A migrated paper pile atop my beloved dictionary!
Sacrilege! A migrated paper pile atop my beloved dictionary!

some of them migrated here from other rooms during the Big Clean.

Nothing to do but take my laptop to a coffeehouse, I think. This IS a holiday weekend, after all.

How many old manuscripts do I need, anyhow?
How many old manuscripts do I need, anyhow?
And while I'm at it, I'd better dust too...
And while I'm at it, I'd better dust too...