What I’m coming to realize is that it’s not the fifteen minute idea that’s cleaning up around here, although I think that’s a good idea, it’s that I have to post every day on it. The urge to wander off and do something else is huge, but I have to post so . . .

It’s really all of you reading this, not the fifteen minutes. If I thought nobody was looking, I’d be watching TV right now.

Still here, huh? Okay, today’s job is The Other Desk, the one I use to spread notes out on and whatever else I need more surface for. Except, of course, I haven’t seen the surface for awhile. And there are four shelves underneath for stuff, but this time I can’t remember what they were for. So it will be a great adventure:

Actually, the shelves behind it are organized, so it’s just the desk top and the four shelves underneath. But it’s gonna take longer than fifteen minutes. That damn window seat was close to two hours by the time I went through all the papers there. And threw them out. I couldn’t believe the stack of notes I had from writing Agnes. So I did the same thing here. Lots of blank journals–they’re like black pens, I swear–books, I’d shoved here, organizer boxes that belonged on the shelves I couldn’t get to because of the stacks of stuff on the desk–but basically it was stuff I had that I didn’t put away, just shoved on the desk. So that has to stop. And now it looks like this:

Which means I can go watch TV now. Tomorrow, it’s back to the floor.