. . . resides here.

I don't want to read websites about getting organized: I want to read books about it. Books on de-cluttering my home. Magazine articles discussing same.

I lounge around at the end of the day, surrounded by manuals on overcoming clutter. They make little piles around my reading chair. I'm safe within them.

As I absorb their helpful hints and suggestions I get a warm sort of glow. I realize my clutter problem is manageable, and it makes me drowsy in a happy fashion.

I go off to bed.

Every week I clear the piles from around the chair, stashing them among my crime books or political tomes, where they sort of glare at me with their beady little eyes. Hell hath no fury like that of a sorting sytem scorned.

* * *

Every several months I eat lunch with She Who Will Not Practice Law. There's a great little health food cafe in the valley that serves yummy vegetarian takes on traditional food from around the world: Spanikopita. Burritos. Spicy soup. Lasagne. We often split something, or sometimes SWWNPL has coupons so we can get a "two for one" deal. I usually order rice milk with lunch, because rice is The Best Food On The Entire Planet.

And we generally go shopping after lunch: at the nearby plant nursery, or in the thrift shop. Or at Costco. If time is short we just bum around in the health food store, looking at the organic cosmetics and expensive quasi-Eastern lifestyle stuff: the candles. The yoga mats. You know.

One such time she caught sight of Karen Kingston's book, Clear Your Clutter with Feng Shui.

"I have that book," she remarked.

"So do I," I replied.

"But can you actually find it in your home?"

"Nope," I responded. "I might need to buy another copy."

Posted by: Attila Girl at 12:51 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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