I am a Piler. I make Piles. Piles of clothes on the chair in my room, piles of school forms and mail on the counter, piles of books on my bedside table, piles of papers to be sorted on my desk. Normally when my other half is around I sort and purge regularly so that none of the piles end up taller than our six year old. But with the Other Half away for 12 days the piles are are growing precarious.
The pile on the kitchen counter has resulted in one phone call from a teacher asking whether Number 2 son will be going on the cross country ski trip day after tomorrow. Of course he is, I was getting to that form. Then my dear husband and business partner called with a question about a customer's order. I know that piece of paper is somewhere - in the pile. The problem is that now there is more than one pile on my desk and when the piles start to reproduce I know I am in trouble.
The pile in my bedroom and the laundry pile in Number 1 son's room can be rectified easily by doing the laundry but then I am really only trading dirty clothes piles for clean clothes piles and we all still have nothing to wear. The pile on my desk is the biggest problem, if I don't get through it before Monday then my Other Half will know that I have spent far too much time blogging while he was away and not enough time working. That is the downside of being married to your co-worker as I am finding out - there are no secrets, unless I can hide them in one of the piles.