I had some kind of ague yesterday. For an entire day, I stayed at home in my bathrobe, feeling poorly. Between naps, I worked a bit in my office. I was too tired to write or work on storytelling projects, so I picked through piles of paper on my desk, sorting them, disposing, filing, and shredding. Some things wound up in my day planner as future projects.
At the end of the day, there was nothing on my desk. Nothing. That's the first time that desk has been clear since I moved here almost thirty years ago. Somehow, in my foggy state, I got myself organized. I suppose in time, clutter will arrive again. That happens when I go into creative mode.
I am enjoying this room today, knowing it may be another thirty years before I look at a cleared desk. Or another flu day.
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