PETER WALSH......Peter Walsh......peter walsh......peterwalsh......perwalsh......
Oh, sorry, I'm trying to channel Peter Walsh. You know, that guy that goes around mucking in other people's, well, muck, and throwing it away. All the while speaking in soothing tones so they won't go all crazy about losing their treasures, or trash, depending on your perspective.
We could be hoarders. There, I've said it. Sean and I, if not controlled, if not embarrassed by company coming over to the house, we could be hoarders. I think I should stand up and confess, like in a 12-step program. brb. "I am a could-be-hoarder" Is there such a thing as a "could-be-hoarder". Maybe you are more of a reformed hoarder or a caterpillar hoarder. Maybe I'm writing a blog post instead of attacking the pile of stuff sitting on my desk.
This is Rosie's toy box. We are raising a hoarder. *scream* Wait, shouldn't that be *SCREAM*? I'm passing on my addiction to my child. Scientific-discovery-alert!!! It is nurture, not nature!!!
This is my desk. Okay, I've done it, I've put it out there. I'm a stacker. I start projects, don't finish, and stack. I get the mail, I glance at it and stack. I find something that will be good-for something-someday and stack.
It's spring. It's a time of renewal. It's a time of hope. It's time to show you and commit to a reasonable "after" picture. *whisper* I could hide all the stuff in the basement, take pictures, and then drag it out again. no, No, NO, bad-hoarder! It's a time of hope. I'm going to clean it all up. I'm going to *shudder* throw things away. I can do it. I can do it! It's a time of hope. Keep telling myself.....stop talking to myself....keep telling myself.... It's a time of hope. It's a time of Peter Walsh.
Okay, readers, help me. You are the accountability-blog-police. Please email me if there is not a post within a week showing a reasonably uncluttered desk and toy box.