Another stroll down amnesia lane.
I was recently talking about the findings of a statistical analysis of fuel consumption in a trucking fleet but said not to ask for a citation as the paper, if I still had it, was hopelessly lost in a mess that I’ve put off dealing with. This sent me on a stroll down amnesia lane:
When I was looking for a place to stay in Haarlem, I was having in interview of sorts over coffee with a prospective landlord, Priscilla, in her kitchen. At one point she waved her hand around in a sweeping gesture and said that she hoped I liked the house but was sorry that her windows were dirty; I told her it was a lovely house and I hadn’t noticed the windows.
She leaned in close and with a goofy grin said that she believed in living each day like it was her last, and that there was no way in Hell she was going to spend her last day cleaning windows.
I’ve heard the remark that a messy workshop is one in which work is being done. To some degree I can agree that cleaning, when it becomes excessive, is just busy-work but too often this attitude is the mark of an unrepentant slob trying to defend their poor housekeeping.
Now just for today I’m going to be a little irresponsible and follow Priscilla’s advice, but tomorow I’ll get to the bottom of that pile, honest.