Meanwhile, I'm staring straight ahead of me at the screen, determined not to steal even a nana-glance at the piles of paper that surround the laptop on my desk.
To be candid, "piles of paper" is too - formal a phrase to describe what lies just beyond the periphery of my vision. Invoices slide off the high slopes, probably useless guarantees adorn the summit. This year's blank tax return hides something which could or could not be an invitation to my second cousin's wedding.
Two months of stuff to be filed, a lot in the waste basket. It won't take long, and then I'll feel so good about myself... so good... perhaps I'll lie down for half an hour to think about it... then there's the kitchen floor to wash... and... and... and another post to blog.... and... I'm pretty sure there'll be no time for filing today.
