The complicated life of a decluttering mind

Where have I been? Trying to stop putting off housework. Last weekend's task was clearing out a filing cabinet, getting rid of extra copies of failed stories.

Kept the file of rejection slips, though. I need the humble pie.

I came across this submission from August 2001 to The Washington Post's "Life Is Short: Autobiography as Haiku" column:

My niece, playing with my magnetic poetry kit, spilled words all over the kitchen floor.

"Please, no dirty words on the refrigerator," I joked.

My nephew asked if I would live in my tiny apartment forever, instead of asking if I'd ever get a husband and kids.

After they left, I found one tiny, insignificant word still on the floor. I put it on the fridge, in the middle, as a reminder. It's only dirty if it tempts me:

"ALL"

Love, hosaa
from that tiny forever apartment