Many productivity experts preach a “clean slate” approach to office space.
As we have more and more “stuff,” a cottage industry of simplification and streamlining how to get rid of our extra stuff has sprung up. George Carlin nailed our addiction to stuff 40 years ago.
I picked up that Kondo decluttering bible book – the one that says consider your cloths’ feelings. Seemed at least interesting until I flipped to the part about getting rid of books.
Fuck. That. Proud member of the tsunduko society!
And I realized at that moment: I don’t care.
I like stuff.
I love the shit on my shelves.
I don’t need to live in a Crate and Barrel catalog. Or work in sterile environment with every pen and paperclip in place.
While there have been times that working on a clean desk with either a pen and notebook or my laptop has been extremely productive, I get bored staring at all that clean space.
I work in a roughed in bathroom space in my basement in a green Lay-Z-Boy, surrounded by shelves of books and a variety of toys, gadgets, candles, and, of course, books.
To break the monotony of writing about marketing and copiers/DM/IT services all the damn time, I decided to write about some of the things on my shelves – why I keep them, why the make me happy, and, sometimes, what and who they remind me of.