Two days ago, towards the end of CBS Sunday News, Charles Osgood did the upcoming weekly calendar and said that Tuesday (today) is “declutter your home office day.”
Decluttering my home office is not on my calendar for today. I checked. It’s not on my calendar for any of the other 364 days either.
I majored in cluttering. Since college, I have played Oscar to my roommates and my husbands. They have all played Felix. Felix is simply not me.
My longtime friend and former upstairs neighbor, Judy, a neat person-spiritually and literally–used to walk around my apartment, tsking. She’d freak out in my home office saying, “This room will be so much bigger if you didn’t have piles of magazines and papers all over the place.” To prove her point, she’d dig in, organize my files, and walk to the incinerator with the papers she decided I absolutely did not need. Soon after she’d leave, other papers reappeared. My office space quickly decreased. A few years ago, Judy moved to her weekend house in another state, not because my clutter extended all the way up to her penthouse apartment. She had other reasons to leave. “I don’t suppose you cleaned up your clutter,” she says whenever we speak. “You supposed right,” I say.
So now it’s six am on Tuesday. When I finish posting this blog, in honor of ‘declutter your home office day,’ I’m going to move the clutter from my home office into the living room. Then I’ll do the things that are on my calendar: write, read my students’ manuscripts, write some more, teach my afternoon class, go babysit for my grandson, come home, and go to sleep. Tomorrow I’ll move my clutter back into my home office. If all is well, next year when this holiday rolls around again, I’ll think about about decluttering.
LOVE ‘N LOTS OF STUFF,
ps. The picture at the top is not my home office. It belongs to some other slob.