Wall-E Here

I feel a bit like the little mobile trash compactor.

I've been in non-stop work mode since Christmas (and feeling somewhat depressed on top of it all), so my apartment is a mess. Jared came in and said, "Wow! You really have been feeling bad!"

A box of books from Mom's made it about three steps inside the front door, then stopped and stayed for three months. The radioactive Fiestaware still sits on the breakfast nook table.

It's time for all that to change—I hope. It doesn't matter much where I start because there's something to do anywhere I look. It's like Wall-E and his piles of trash. There's something everywhere. Like the little robot, I have my insect friends, but in my case they are huge black ants. Another difference between us is that I actually try to kill my little friends. 700-year-old Twinkies? No (I learned this Christmas to look at expire dates), but I do have some herbs and spices that are over five years. Probably should throw those out. And, like Wall-E, I'll probably get distracted playing with some of the things I find under piles of stuff. Perhaps I'll even find a green plant in here. Beautiful robot from another planet? I doubt it.