Went to a movie last night and rushed home because the movie inspired me to post something on my blog. Not a story. Not a review. A something. A something that I had to find. I looked everywhere it could possibly be (the office, the garage, the old office area...) but, alas, I couldn't find it.
As a punishment for not finding it, and not having a back-up post - oh my God, I can't believe I'm letting you see this - I am putting up a couple of pictures of my office. First let me say, my excuse for the office looking like a bomb hit it is "a bomb hit it." The bomb was me, me trying to find the something. I really thought it was in the evil trunk. So I emptied most of the trunk onto the floor, the couch, the coffee table and other places you can't even see. The something wasn't there. Other somethings similar to the something I was looking for were there but not the something I wanted to post.
Of course, not all this mess was created in the short span of the couple of hours it took me not to find the something. My excuse for the rest of the mess is "I'm crazy busy breaking a story for a new screenplay I'm writing." Fine. Fine. I know none of my excuses are valid for the state of my office. But I'm hoping by subjecting myself to this public humiliation, I will get off my ass and clean it up. Okay...here's the pictures. Look, if you dare.
If you are of the anal persuaion and these photos give you the urge to rush over and organize me (after you finish throwing up, of course) please contact me ASAP.
8 comments:
That's nothing. Honestly-- my workspace makes yours look like a silicon chip factory by comparison. I found a pair of shoes in my office the other day-- shoes which I had not seen in two years and which I had come to believe had either been left somewhere (details are irrelevant, but the word "alcohol" had significance in that particular story...) or had accidentally donated them to charity (again, see: "alcohol").
Imagine a landfill with a DSL connnection. THAT'S my workspace.
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B
PS-- yeah, yeah, that was me in the deleted post. I boogered up my copy-paste so badly that the resulting stab at a post looked like it had been wriitten in pig-esperanto. So sue me.
Thanks, Brett, for making me feel like I'm not alone in my squalor.
How about we start one of those support groups...maybe SA for Slobs Anonymous?
BTW, how do you delete messages you've already posted?
A little trashcan icon appears somewhere down at the bottom of your comment. Click on it and the comment is deleted.
Well, duh. Why didn't I think of that?
So, does that mean anybody can delete any comment? Or just the author, and maybe me if I disagree with a comment? Just kidding...I believe in the freedom of speech. I won't delete anybody, no matter what you say.
I'm really asking for it, aren't I?
You should see my house. I have a couple of teenage sons who recently decided to find some old video games and have been investigating the contents of every closet. Of course, they never put anything back that they remove.
But I shouldn't talk, considering the state of disarray that is my office. My only saving grace is that practically everyone else's desk around here is in pretty much the same sorry shape.
I've heard that if you have everything on your desk in perfect order, that means you're clinically insane.
Ooops, I just cleaned my desk.
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