A report from the late-night freelancing trenches

God is trying to tell me something. Or rather, Dog is trying to tell me something.

And that something is “Clean up your shit!”

You see, I’m what I like to call a lateral organizer. This means that I prefer to organize my workspace laterally. Like, across. Like, across any workspace.

Considering that my desk is a tiny 1940s kitchen table (lurve it!), this means that I spread my shit all over the floor.

I come by this tendency honestly. My father is the most organized and neat man in the universe (He has a system for his closet that depends heavily upon what direction the shirts face. C’mon.). And the lateral organizing? He does it, too. His freakishly organized office typically has a row of manila file folders on the floor along one wall.

I’m not totally into the folder thing, so my piles are typically just piles of paper. I like to think of it as my Carpet Credenza. IKEA will be picking up this concept at any moment. It can be yours for just $199, but assembly is required.

Anyway. Geriatric Poodle has spent the better part of my freelancing marathon on my lap. Finally, I was just over it. I set him down. He wandered for maybe 30 seconds … and then peed alllllll over my office floor.

Me: No, no, no, honey!

Geriatric Poodle: Oh, hai! Did you know I drank 17 gallons of water today?

Miraculously, he didn’t hit the Carpet Credenza. Thank Dog. But I think it might be a sign.