It's a minefield

I decided, after the conference on the weekend, that I would start with a complete tidy up of my office.

Ok, the fact that it was almost difficult to enter in the first place prompted me, too, but when I knocked yet another pile off my desk I figured NOW was probably a good time to start.

So, I took a look at all my piles, dragged in the recycling box, sorted through the piles, tossing some into the recycling and making other, neater, smaller piles with the rest.

Start doing some things with the filing cabinet and files, completely unable to decide what some things should be filed under so I will remember. The fact that the filing cabinet is a black hole, where, once something is stored, it is promptly forgotten about, is beside the point.

About to start on repiling small neat piles when receive phone call from another parent, discussing an issue with all the kids. Her two and mine. All sorted from parents perspective and I think I can work out what happened.

But why put words in the kids mouths when I can get them to tell me instead. So I ask for their version of events … which started with one kid saying something to another coz “it was funny”, turns into a complete minefield of “but she said this” and “I don’t like it when…”


Lock myself in office and tackle piles and the Evil Filing Cabinet Again.

I know which issue is easier to deal with, and as much as I loathe the minefield that is

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