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My colleague has just warned me that I am in danger of being swallowed by my desk. Looking at it while standing up, it looks like she’s right. I have my doubts about me surviving if I put my head onto it (like one of the countless times that I’ve fallen asleep at the keyboard).

But, where the fuck am I supposed to put all this shit? I mean, it’s everywhere! There’s no room on the floor (from my last desk cleanup), and there’s probably something important in these piles that will prove indispensable one day, like getting me out of a Saudi prison or something like that. So, I can’t throw it away (unless I want to remain in said Saudi prison).

I just walked away for an hour to think about it. I’ve always wanted a little cubicle in this corner, so here’s what I am going to do to resolve the issue: I’m just going to let the pile on the floor get higher every time I do a desk cleanup. I estimate that within six months I’ll have 10-foot walls around me, with an imaginary door, too. Like Les Nessman used to have on WKRP. Remember?

Thanks for helping me through this. I’ll let you know how I make out as it progresses.