There is another way

All these things are in the way, I sigh. Shuffle and shove to make space again. I am tired of working like this, I mutter.

I want to sweep everything aside—the papers and the clutter and the laundry and the bills and the books and the toys and the shoes—and stare at a vacant desk. A spotless office. A shining house of sparkling minimalism.

It will never be.