A long while back, Belle Yang asked us to take photos of what our working spaces looked like. I put mine up, and then for the next two years messed it up as much as I could without even trying to. Sure, I've had periodic cleanliness attempts, but right now, it would seem that a large mole has taken up residence under the twelve magazines, three packages, two news papers, seven books, microphone, camera, photos, cards, letters, pens, and notepads on this three by six foot desk. I even have some Pokémon cards. Don't ask.
This is likely a national tragedy.
Worse, is that I was on vacation, and things were literally piled here. Bills and catalogs (did you see that Athleta sale?) and I am stunned into inaction. I left much of the contents of my purse here on the desk while away, and now the quarters are glinting at me, those evil things.
And then there is the virtual desk, the 54 emails I went through this morning, reading, writing back to or at, and deleting or filing. It's 7.20 in the morning. My brain is more toast than the toast I ate.
What I tell my students is that their actions in my classes are metaphors for who they are. I'm sad to say that I think that right now, my desk is a metaphor for who I am write/right now. Scattered. Messy. A bit out of control.
So I'm going to to sign off, fortify myself with another cup of coffee, and clean up. Really. I swear.
Causes Jessica Inclán Supports
Women for Women International Goodwill Industries Lindsey Wildlife Museum Freecycle.org