I have a theory. I think there is a sinister plot among the files and papers in my office. Each day, when I set foot in my office, I have less room to set
foot in my office.
Why would they do such a dastardly thing to a poor writer? Don’t they realize I love all of them equally and wouldn’t dream of throwing them away? You would think that kind of loyalty would prompt better behavior.
Maybe I’ll just clean them all out and start over. That should show them who’s boss. Of course, I get sick thinking about having to start all over accumulating all that information. They have me over a barrel and they know it!
I guess the only thing I can do is move out and let them have the office. I can always work at the library. Just let them try to follow me there. Our librarian won’t tolerate such behavior. Hummm. Maybe I’ll set up an office at the library.
Raising the white flag and declaring clutter has won, Gloria