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Wednesday, June 29, 2011


I have a confession.

I have piles.

But there’s no need for you to blush. My piles aren’t a physiological issue for me. I just create them. Almost wherever you might look, I have piles. Paper, always of paper. Things to read, things I have already read and think I might read again, treasures from the children, bills to attend to. And they nearly always take me a marathon amount of energy to make my way through. It’s a Battle.

The Battle of the Bench takes place when piles that have grown in frustrating places, or piles that have toppled and need repiling just too many times, finally push me over the edge. Tidy up time. That’s what I’ve had this afternoon. Frustration fuels my tidying, and with a good, helpful amount of adrenalin flowing I am able to think clearly and effectively. It’s you or me, you piles you! Slowly but surely, tasks are attended to. The bouncy ball is returned to a more rightful place. The hair tie, no wait, there’s another one, the hair ties are returned to a more rightful place. Treasures from Kinder are taped onto The Display Walls. And finally, after determined, slow method, piles are remedied.

However, another confession, I think I must have a block about ever reaching pile-free status in a lasting way. I never really seem to truly get to the place of being pile-free. I always stop just short of the point of completion. I think I like my piles! There’s comfort in seeing things I’m attached to. There’s just always a good columm from the paper that I do get pleasure just glancing at again, as the glance reminds me of the rhythm and flow I’d enjoyed. The idea just so aptly expressed. A special something that just doesn't really have a home, but needs to be kept.

Piles then.

I think it’s a chronic case.

And the remedy?

I don’t truly think I want it.

Are you a 'Tidy' or a 'Messy'?

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