The Pigsty-I Mean, Home Office

Just to remind you that I am far from perfect, I thought I'd post a couple of pretty horrifying pictures.

Admittedly, I have been going a hundred miles an hour since August, and things like cleaning and organizing my office got firmly shoved to the bottom of my ever-lengthening "to-do" list. Sixty hours went to the last three episodes of The Charmed Pot. Other hours went to school and teaching, many went to packing and unpacking my booth for the Jack Russell Brewery. Not nearly enough went to sleeping.

So when I came home from one thing or another, whatever boxes I had got chucked into my office and the door was firmly shut. And so these are my wages of sin:

Mind you, I'm actually not a hoarder. I'm just over-freaking-committed! 

The good news is that things have slowed down a bit, and--I finally found the perfect desk for me. (Will post pics later!) Many of the things you see lying around are now in either the trash or the donation pile. A woodworking neighbor is going to build a bookshelf that doesn't hide the faux limestone block walls I spent forever painting, so not one but two bookshelves are going away. Loads of papers are going into either the trash or their appropriate files as I get ready for my joyous tax-filing day. Books I know I'll never read again are getting donated. I'm passing on a couple of nifty pieces of movie memorabilia to a couple of folks whom I know will appreciate them.


I feel so virtuous, it's sickening.


As I was going through the cabinet in the top picture, I found my old autograph book, and among the signatures of the entire "Happy Days" cast, as well as one or two from the M*A*S*H series, was this signature:

He signed my book during the Screen Actor's Guild strike in 1980, and at the time, I had no idea who he was. Now, I have Inspector Kemp's autograph (plus all the other amazing characters he played in his long career), and I'm glad to have it.


I've uncovered a few things left over from grade school days, and while I really should just throw them in the garbage, I can't quite part with them as of yet. After all, I don't have kids, so to whom would they go? And wouldn't they throw these pieces out, anyway?


Well, maybe next major purge, I'll get to it.