On My Desk

Glenn Cameron

I’ve always thought that much can be revealed about a person by examining their work space – in my case, a small desk with a big computer in the middle. It’s like perusing someone’s library of books or looking at someone else’s day-timer (is that still a thing?). It’s a close, personal statement of the state of affairs in a given life.

My desk is a place where I leave reminders of things that I have to do and it’s also a place where I keep the material of work already in-progress. It’s a private space with a carefully cultivated, invisible “Keep Out” sign hanging somewhere above it.

“Don’t move that phone charger. I know where it is and if you move it I’ll have to buy a new one. And as soon as I buy a new one I will find the very one that you just moved. That’s the way it works. Weird! I know.”

There are a few hard drives that I use to back up God-knows-what from my computer. That reminds me: I have to go through them and sort out all that stuff on those hard drives. Of course I know very well that I will probably never get around to that. But backing up is important.

That pile of CDs and DVDs should be digitized and stored on one of those hard drives. Then I can get rid of that pile. But in the meantime it’s holding down a stack of papers that I have to file. Which reminds me that I have to pick up some file folders in town next time I’m there. So don’t touch those either.

“Have you seen my stapler? I think you moved it.”

The magnet on my paper clip dispenser has attracted a small collection of coins, a key and some iron filings. I have no idea where that stuff comes from.

I’ve taken to throwing out pens that don’t work on the second attempt. I used to keep them with the intention of sitting down one day with all the delinquent pens and fixing them, creating a nice pile of well-working pens with matching tops. But a few years ago I was drowning in broken pen parts and decided just to throw them all away. I now adhere strictly to my new pen policy and I’ve never looked back.

There is a small piece of very high quality plywood about nine inches long with a nail in one end. I know it’s a critical piece of something, but it has been around for at least a year and I’ve forgotten what it’s for or where it came from. So better leave it there for now.

Things-To-Do lists are scattered throughout the various departments of my desk. The strategy here uses a shotgun approach. The idea is that I will stumble upon one or more of my lists as I wade through the clutter, giving a wonderful randomness to keeping up with whatever it is that I expect myself to do. To keep a modicum of order I occasionally make a list of the lists. It’s here somewhere.

Some stuff eventually gets promoted off the desk and onto the floor around it. This creates a geographically expanding “Keep Out” zone. There’s a small paint can and a stir-stick, a pair of needle-nose pliers and a vacuum-cleaner attachment for the ancient vacuum cleaner that we threw out last month. Never know when that will come in handy. Thing is, as soon as I throw it out a desperate need for it will arise. Weird! I know.

I was cutting up a ripe apple the other day, actually it was last month, and the small knife I used is still on my desk. I should really take that to the kitchen sink. I don’t know what happened to the core.

My attention is averted by a thin, dog-eared book which looks like it could be the tipping point for a full double-stack of assorted receipts and unopened mail. The book is called Stop Procrastinating And Take Control Of Your Life. I’m just about to start reading it. But if I pick it up now that whole pile could go over and I don’t have time for that.