THY NAME IS CLUTTER
It arose one morning from the bowels of my desk, a formless mass that spread and covered itself
over anything I was looking for. "Who are you?" I asked.
"I am Clutter," the mass answered, "and I am here to confound your life. I am the things you
refuse to throw out, although you haven't used them in six years; the miscellaneous papers, phone
numbers, business cards, and doodads you accumulate and never put away. I am the inevitable
manifestation of your sloppiness. I am Clutter."
I grabbed Clutter and moved it from one end of the desk to the other. Clutter laughed and said,
“That's my favorite pastime”. I’ll cleverly move to yet another part of the desk.” "What do you
want?", I asked.
"To frustrate you! I will resist all attempts to remove me, reduce me, or otherwise eliminate me.
It's my purpose to hide whatever important piece of paper you need, whichever phone number you
must call."
"I'm throwing you out," I stormed. Clutter shook his untidy mass sadly, as in pity.
"Not without looking at me purposefully to see if there's anything you really need," Clutter
answered. "The odds are slim, you won't take that chance. Anyway, while you're sorting through me,
I'll re-form in another pile."
"But you'll be smaller, more manageable", I said.
"Not really. You'll decide to keep 90% of me, as you always do. And soon, new papers, numbers,
documents will gather, making me more obstructive than ever."
"You won't ruin my life, Clutter! I'll start a filing system! Put bits of you where you belong," I
retorted. Clutter gazed at me contemptuously.
"The last time you tried that, you created my cousins, Chaos and Disorder. It'll never work."
Clutter had me and I knew it. Attempts in the past to file things alphabetically had only created 26
piles of mess instead of one. I was desperate, so I decided to bluff. "I'll take a time management
course," I threatened. Clutter quite rightly ignored my remark. I wasn't dealing with an idiot,
after all. "Then I'll buy a computer and store you on my disks!"
"And within a month, your disk-filing system will be in total disarray, plus you'll have another pile of
papers waiting to be entered onto disks. Face it, you can't win.”
Exasperated, I ran to the closet. "I'm getting some space." Clutter had been to the closet before
me. Shoes were scattered, shirts were off hangers, mountains of pants and underwear lay strewn
next to towels and a bathrobe. Socks congealed in small piles, looking like the waste product of
some nylon-eating monster. Cliff notes from “A Tale of Two Cities” lay atop the heater.
"Clutter," I yelled. "You have crippled my productivity for the last time. No longer will I be late, no
more will I miss appointments, never again shall I be overwhelmed by your size and withdraw into
reading old magazines. I am going out to the store to buy a paper shredder."
I looked around for a long moment. "Now where did I leave my keys?"
Clutter burped.
It arose one morning from the bowels of my desk, a formless mass that spread and covered itself
over anything I was looking for. "Who are you?" I asked.
"I am Clutter," the mass answered, "and I am here to confound your life. I am the things you
refuse to throw out, although you haven't used them in six years; the miscellaneous papers, phone
numbers, business cards, and doodads you accumulate and never put away. I am the inevitable
manifestation of your sloppiness. I am Clutter."
I grabbed Clutter and moved it from one end of the desk to the other. Clutter laughed and said,
“That's my favorite pastime”. I’ll cleverly move to yet another part of the desk.” "What do you
want?", I asked.
"To frustrate you! I will resist all attempts to remove me, reduce me, or otherwise eliminate me.
It's my purpose to hide whatever important piece of paper you need, whichever phone number you
must call."
"I'm throwing you out," I stormed. Clutter shook his untidy mass sadly, as in pity.
"Not without looking at me purposefully to see if there's anything you really need," Clutter
answered. "The odds are slim, you won't take that chance. Anyway, while you're sorting through me,
I'll re-form in another pile."
"But you'll be smaller, more manageable", I said.
"Not really. You'll decide to keep 90% of me, as you always do. And soon, new papers, numbers,
documents will gather, making me more obstructive than ever."
"You won't ruin my life, Clutter! I'll start a filing system! Put bits of you where you belong," I
retorted. Clutter gazed at me contemptuously.
"The last time you tried that, you created my cousins, Chaos and Disorder. It'll never work."
Clutter had me and I knew it. Attempts in the past to file things alphabetically had only created 26
piles of mess instead of one. I was desperate, so I decided to bluff. "I'll take a time management
course," I threatened. Clutter quite rightly ignored my remark. I wasn't dealing with an idiot,
after all. "Then I'll buy a computer and store you on my disks!"
"And within a month, your disk-filing system will be in total disarray, plus you'll have another pile of
papers waiting to be entered onto disks. Face it, you can't win.”
Exasperated, I ran to the closet. "I'm getting some space." Clutter had been to the closet before
me. Shoes were scattered, shirts were off hangers, mountains of pants and underwear lay strewn
next to towels and a bathrobe. Socks congealed in small piles, looking like the waste product of
some nylon-eating monster. Cliff notes from “A Tale of Two Cities” lay atop the heater.
"Clutter," I yelled. "You have crippled my productivity for the last time. No longer will I be late, no
more will I miss appointments, never again shall I be overwhelmed by your size and withdraw into
reading old magazines. I am going out to the store to buy a paper shredder."
I looked around for a long moment. "Now where did I leave my keys?"
Clutter burped.
Endangered Spaces
.... restoring order to "stuffed" lives and living spaces
www.endangeredspaces.net
.... restoring order to "stuffed" lives and living spaces
www.endangeredspaces.net