My dining room table is the catch-all at our house. The mess is mostly mine, but it does contain papers that the girls bring home from school. Papers that I have to deal with. Sports, band, dance, school stuff it's all there. Then after I get through the school stuff, I reach "my stuff." This category contains a pile of papers that have to do with religious education, decorating committee, writing contests or assignments, half written poems and short stories, receipts, old sections of the Compass (our local Catholic newspaper), coupons that I cut out but never used, junk mail. Well, you get the point. If I have ever thought about it, it's in the pile.
About once a week, I make a well-intentioned attempt to tackle the pile. First, I start by putting everything into their respective smaller piles. Second, I throw out anything that is outdated or unnecessary. Now, it is a more organized mess. Third, I get distracted by something like my job, my kids coming home, it doesn't take much. Next, I start to make dinner and when I go to set the table I remember that I was "tackling the pile." The food is almost ready to put on the table, so the smaller piles get stacked into one big pile and pushed off to the end of the table to sit and begin its multiplication process again.
Sometimes, maybe quarterly, I actually get the whole pile put away. Anyone within earshot knows that I have completed my mission because they hear something like, "Hey, this table has a wood grain top!"
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