My desk was cluttered (with those scraps of paper on which I write countless notes to myself) and dusty, so I decided today was the day: I would clean this space off.
But the clean desk made obvious the
dustiness of the file cabinets next to it, so I dusted them, too. Next
to them stands a bookcase, which--you guessed it--then needed a dusting.
And all those clean surfaces made the carpet (which seemed to have been
through a snowstorm) look even more in need of a vacuuming than it had
before this chain of events began.
So I sit in my temporarily
clean and shiny space, hoping the lack of clutter will free some mental
space for creativity. The kind of creativity that makes me so busy I
ignore the slow insidious buildup of dust and clutter ...
It's the cycle of creative life. Around here, anyway.