measi's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ye slacker! As I look around my cubicle today, I realize how horribly non-commital I have been to something simplistic: keeping some sense of organization about things. And I don't mean my longtime childhood philosophy for organizing my room as a disaster area. "Well, it's all out on the floor where I can see it" isn't a strong philosophy for a work-ethic. The problem is that the piles never seem to change, and so it looks like I'm actually not DOING anything in here. Which on occasion, I'm not. Like now. When I'm writing in my journal. But regardless, the clutter of my life is starting to drive me crazy. I wake up to a disasterous apartment. I come to a disasterous desk. I go back to a disasterous apartment. Everything is cluttered, and while my life is moving at a relatively laid-back pace, the clutter intensifies any stress I might have felt. Bottom line? I need to clean. Seriously clean. And it might take coming in here some Saturday to get the cubicle clean when no one's around to bother me. I also need to clean my apartment, and Erich, bless his soul, has offered to help. However, I value my relationship with Erich far too much to inflict such torture on him, other than to use him and his car to get some of the blatantly non-essential stuff (*cough* Cabbage Patch Kids collection) into a storage space, as well as some clothes donations over to Goodwill or Rosie's Place, etc. The problem is that every time I start working on my apartment or my desk, I get distracted or lazy... and nothing really seems to happen except that the piles migrate a few feet. Sure... it looks different, but it's no cleaner than before. I think the clutter is affecting my brain and making me a lazy-butt. *sigh* 3:42 p.m. - 7 September 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||