I was watching "Clean House" for a little while last night as they tackled the "messiest home in the country." It was pretty horrific, to be sure. I sat there wondering how on earth that family had managed to get into that mess, and feeling somewhat superior to them.
Then I came to work this morning to try to clear some things off my desk. Now I know how they got into that mess: neglect of the little things that could easily have been done in moments turns into big piles that will take me hours to sift through.
Simple procrastination. Not wanting to deal with some things. Letting myself get buried in paper and clutter rather than clearing it as it comes. And now . . .
I know I'll feel much better at the end of the day. Just pick up one piece of paper at a time, figure out what to do with it, and then go to the next. But how much I want to do anything but this! "Let this cup pass from me," I pray in agony. "Bring in the magic desk-cleaning fairy and fix all this," I demand of God.
But then the words, "not my will, but Thine."
Time to get to work.
Unless, of course, I can figure out a way to distract myself again!