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| (Not my pile ... but close) |
I am cleaning out the basement, a daunting task at any time, but my trash day is Tuesday. This means I have to have some of this task wrapped up and out to the curb before the truck rolls by. This sounds like a simple task, but I know how this goes. Just when I think it's all under control, I am struck by the near-deadly brainstorm that whispers ...
One more box.
I uncover crayons and Halloween costumes and baby clothes and tools and camping gear and candles. I weed out some of this stuff, along with old CD holders, used-up floor mats, a broken tray-desk, some black-matte tea cups that feel creepy to touch, and some unfixable hand-held electronics.
I finally ignore the lure of one more box and step away, tying off the several bags of trash and hauling it all to the street. I can work on it later. After all, it will be seven more days before the next trash truck comes by. I have some time. I have a whole week before it's trash day again.
If you've seen my basement, you'll know I need every moment between now and then to make some progress. And if you don't hear from me before then, come untangle me from the giant cobwebs ... and that one ... more ... box.
