BEFORE
AFTER
I've been working in a veritable pig sty of an office for the past year, surrouned by the detrius of the past decade's illness and pain. For the last 2 days I surrendered to the steady hands of a professional organizer. She knew when to ride me hard, push the pace and drag me through the boxes piled as high as an elephant's eye, and when to back off and give me a break going through departed loved one's letters. Some things are too hard to slog through on your own. I'm thankful that I knew my limit and called in reinforcements. I'm not done with the sorting and sacking yet, but I've gotten a kick-start on clearing my mental space and motivation to keep it clear, now. I've been putting off so much: "When the office is done..." What happens now that I have no excuses? Nothing taking up my physical space to interfere with my mental space? Time and finally space to write, that's what.
