The problem with tidying, and washing knives and such, is that it doesn't give me a proper feeling of accomplishment. It becomes a huge task because, well, that I threw away a 1992 appointment book is sufficient evidence of how seldom I do this. But when I'm done I don't have a story written, or a meal cooked, or even confidence that it'll stay tidy, because that's not how entropy and housework are.
But I have a cup of tea, I have some clean surfaces, and I think I'm going to get rid of these two random beads that I bought (from the rubber stamp on the bag) somewhere in Brooklyn, at an unknown time and for no clear purpose. The cocoa tin I just finished will be a pen holder, and maybe I can take the plastic card-holder and reassemble my wallet.
Edit (26 Feb.): The cocoa tin didn't work, but I have a pen holder, and my wallet has been reassembled.
But I have a cup of tea, I have some clean surfaces, and I think I'm going to get rid of these two random beads that I bought (from the rubber stamp on the bag) somewhere in Brooklyn, at an unknown time and for no clear purpose. The cocoa tin I just finished will be a pen holder, and maybe I can take the plastic card-holder and reassemble my wallet.
Edit (26 Feb.): The cocoa tin didn't work, but I have a pen holder, and my wallet has been reassembled.
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Well, I'm impressed, for what that's worth. My home desk hasn't been clear since before September, I think. I did a bit of archaeology today, and found $122 worth of receipts for things I should get reimbursed for. The rest of it probably won't be so rewarding.