I never understood why Nana had so much shit on her table. She barely had any room to sit there and enjoy a cup of tea. There were stacks of paper, cartons of cigarettes, projects, gifts, and magazines piled endlessly. She had an entire house, yet there it all sat.
Tonight when I came home and put my car keys down, next to the bills to be paid, my health journal, the note to make a call tomorrow, my book for bed tonight, my laptop and today’s mail – I suddenly understood.
Why clutter the whole house when there’s a perfectly good and efficient spot to address it all, while I have a cup of tea?