My work is a mixture of busyness and absurdity. A broken faucet, an overflowing shower, resulting water damage, coworker drama, weekly server crash, merging old fashioned database with newfangled interweb system. You know: the usual stuff. Oh, and a paper cut across my palm because: why not?
This is my desk this morning:
Actually, it's a silk pashmina, a fur vest, and a piece of fabric that I am considering re-purposing. These all came in with clothing donations and we are considering possibilities for them. Like I said, this job can be strange.
What I don't like is the unfinished bits (or perhaps in-progress) The lunch that is now cold, the unreturned message on the sticky note, the listing binders beside the monitor. And yes, I did stop to take a picture AND write about it. I can't imagine why things like this happen!
Usually at this point, I stop everything and start over. Put the pens away, move the binders, stack all the papers back up. Throw my cold lunch out. Clean slate theory. Instead, I made the mature and reasonable response to write about this phenomenon.