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it came out of the wordwork

At least...
at least we aren't property owners at Camp Ellis, Maine, with waves breaking over the rocks and Surf Drive all too accurately named as it turned to rubble.

Elsewise, the weather here is rainy yet again, helping perpetuate a kind of gray world-view. The gray seems to slide in the doors when it can -- and against it I have my office lit as if were 5 PM in mid-December's bleak darkness, and have on some music.

Making the office not as cheery as it might be are my ongoing efforts to overcome one of my genetic handicaps -- this one with the initials CCCD -- for Comfortable Creative Clutter Disorder. There's something about a room being not quite perfectly neat that eases my mind.... especially when I'm in the midst of finishing a story.

Alas, no matter that I can usually find the things I'm looking for, after awhile the room and the clutter go beyond comfort and by then it's nearly painful to go through the piles of stuff and retrieve space and dignity, even though the cats seem to like the room better once it has been controlled a bit.

I called this genetic, and indeed, my grandmother suffered from the extended version of this problem, to the point where it was difficult for her to throw away even daily newspapers -- against the necessity that she might want it some day. I gather that cleaning her apartment out when she moved was a dumpster-laden chore.

I started exhibiting similar behavior during my time at Randallstown Elementary School (this in the days before children in school were routinely psychoanalyzed and sent for management drugs); there were times that homework -- done, and done right -- sat lost in my desk for weeks. I even managed to lose entire notebooks worth of stuff -- done -- and thus got lower grades -- by not getting it out of the desk and onto the teacher's pile of papers. Oddly, once I got into college and began a regimen of writing my own stuff... things got organized, for awhile. I got file cabinets (small) and put things away and recorded my submissions.... But now there are about 30 file drawers in the house, mostly full, so sometimes it's hard to remember to put things away...

But I digress.

The project at hand is my third or fourth attempt in the last two years to *finish* cleaning my office. I still constantly store away things against projects I'm going to get to; I'm amazed at the number of them I've actually done. Still, perhaps I don't need those two extra network hubs in my office, nor the five modem cords, nor the 1998 version of the AAA autoguide to Maryland.., and I still haven't found the long-sought shelving so I can turn the toys and knick-knacks from clutter to keepsakes. RSN, RSN, that's the song for me...

But, so far this week, two large bags of removable paper sediment have been removed (soon to be joined a couple of those now highly amusing 1997 or internet how-to guides...) and then maybe onto one of those need-to-get-to projects: scanning all those 1970s and 1980s photos of Baltimore area fandom.

On the side, I'm working on writing, and rereading The Tomorrow Log, and waiting for a proof to come back so I can run it into the printers and get a chapbook out.

Now, anyone want a copy of Railroad Engineering, Volume One, by William H. Hay? -- (1953, John Wiley and Sons)-- guess I need to get together an EBay offering....

version .66