I've been working a bit on cleaning my office. I've unearthed some interesting things this evening from my desk. I found a lip pencil still in the box. It must be friends with the new-in-box brow pencil that was hiding in another spot. In the middle of a pile of bills was a clipping from the Anderson, Indiana paper in 1986 announcing the recent marriage of Colin and I.
Assorted scraps of paper with unidentifiable bits of information are all over. For instance "03826," "blue," and "Mary" written in different spots on the back of a Far Side desk calendar page. Here's a phone number with no identifying info on a post-it. (I have post-its in at least six colors among the clutter on my desk.)
This feels like an excavation.
5 comments:
I've had that experiencing of uncovering a piece of paper with odd notes jotted on it in careless directions. Usually I'm the only one who can make any sense of the notes I've written myself. I wonder what an archaeologist would surmise about my life from assembles piles of stuff and notes.
I have to ask, When was the last time you moved?
It has been five and a half years. This is the longest I've ever lived in one place by about two years.
I really need to move. :)
Me too. Aside for sabbatical (which I don't really count because we didn't need to empty ALL the storage spaces) we haven't moved since '99. I need a good house cleaning/emptying.
There is an old saying that goes,
"A Messy Desk Is A Sign Of Genius."
Looks like you may want to leave the piles where they lay!
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