Don’t you have days like this?
Before the gym, and the mammogram, it’s pick up the my endless mess so Marta can clean the house. She comes every two weeks, and I confess that I become oblivious to my piles. Dear Geezer isn’t half as bad as I with messes. Then again, he picks things up before I can catch him at it.
Not me. I’m left with piles. Today’s consolidation sits next to my monitor and is a foot high. The first slip of paper has passcodes on it. Do I need them. I hold up the page and stare at it for a while. Once I figure out it’s useless, the thought strikes me that cleaning this up will take a while.
I’m such a slob.
Life is Really in the Footnotes: