We’ve been making books nonstop for weeks now and may have reached that point where clutter meets despair.
I’d like to blame it all on Robbi. Her workspace has recently been condemned by the town manager.
But one glance along the corridor that defines my commute to work reveals that I am hardly exempt from responsibility.
Fortunately, our officially appointed Sub-Commander of Peripheral Idiocy and loyal subscriber Don has volunteered to drive down from Pennsylvania this weekend to help us make books and chip away at the madness.
Provided we do not perish in the mean time, I will post some “after” photos at the end of the weekend, if only to demonstrate that we Idiots are capable of order, if only in fleeting passages.
DON ROCKS!! To the rescue!!
Peggy:
I’d appreciate it if you would please address Don by his proper title: Sub-Commander of Peripheral Idiocy, thankyouverymuch.
I, Sub-Commander of Peripheral Idiocy, do indeed “rock.” Especially when I get really stressed; then, I usually sit cross-legged on the floor, put my fingers in my ears and rock back and forth.
Here’s hoping I survive the studio disaster.
Dear Don Sub-Commander of Peripheral Idiocy, thankyouverymuch, you must make the Idiots take you around the corner for amazing bread, etc. and coffee at the newest joint in town, Against The Grain, to carbo load you before you set to work.