It Was Like Touching The Shroud of Turin

I think I have Chronic Messy-Desk Disorder (CMDD).

I have been dealing with this tribulation for sometime. There was a time when I only had one desk to worry about, so it felt contained. Now, I have two rather large desks (well, the in my bedroom is rather large, the one in my office is a monstrosity), and the disorder has caught me in a vice-like grip. It's a trial, but I am going to carry on the good fight and try to live with it. We all have our crosses to bear, right?

My Ecuadorian room mate is, naturally, as neat as a pin. (I am not saying that as a generalization of all Ecuadorians, but more as an ironic foil to my own person).

She never says anything about the epic mountain of papers and knick knacks that are rumored to house a desk sitting right there in the room.

She never demands that I clean up my crap before she goes berserk with the chaos of it all.

She never points out that all of the mess is mine and not hers-- well, actually, she does do that. She points that out on a daily basis, but she never makes me feel bad about it.

The point is that she is out of town this weekend, and I thought that to be nice, I would clean off my desk as a surprise for her return. And you would not believe the treasures that I have recovered in the process!

I found three sticks of half-used deodorant. Three. That means that I lost and replaced two different sticks of deodorant. And they were both on my desk, where I spend at least 8 hours a day.

I found a box that housed at least 75 tootsie roll wrappers with the white edges neatly trimmed off. I dimly recall doing this, mindlessly wielding scissors (which I also found!) while watching every episode of Heroes and The Office that I could find online. But if I had a reason for it, it has long been forgotten.

I found 5 pairs of sunglasses. Ok, technically my everyday-pair were never missing; they always have a spot of reverence on top of any heap that develops on the desk. This girl never makes a move without her sunglasses. The other 4 offer a lot of variety in ocular protection:

Exhibit A: plain black, but they only cost a dollar!

Exhibit B: metallic blue with a kind of wanna-be-Oakley feel about them. The rubber on the arms and nose bit is a little bit of overkill, but I'm pretty sure they were free. Or dirt cheap.

Exhibit C: sparkling burgundy felt with red lenses. The frames extend up past the eyes for a wonderful feathered-wing effect. I wore them all day long on Mardi Gras.

Exhibit D: bright orange frames, approx. 1 foot across the front. But what really makes them eye-catching (HA! no pun intended! that's fantastic! eye-catching!!!) are the diminutive yellow stars at the corners of the lenses.

I found a brochure from the "John Adams Unbound" display at the Boston Public Library. That was an amazing experience. I actually saw his handwritten notes in the margins of the books that made up his impressive personal library. I would be lying if I said that I didn't shed a tear at the wonder of it. Actually, I would be lying if I said that I didn't spend the entire hour and a half at the exhibit trying (with limited success) to choke back tears. I love John Adams.

I found the Bhagavad-Gita. Not the original, of course (that would have been weird, huh?), but a good translation. I think that more people should find that one. It's pretty powerful, even today, 2000 years after it was composed.

So, maybe I should try with more vigor to combat my CMDD. If nothing else, it supplies me with good blog fodder, right?