Well, I finally got a wake-up call about organizing my damn office already, in the form of a puncture wound. This morning I stepped on the side of a plastic-and-metal Christmas Tree Shop box that was on the floor, along with everything else on the planet. The metal actually went through a piece of posterboard and into my foot and I had to pull it out. You know it's bad when a room in your home forces you to perform impromptu surgery. Everyone that I've told has had the same reaction, right down to their enunciation: "Oh my GOD, Red."
So to all those who have suffered this mess graciously, stepping over it instead of grabbing me by my shoulders and shaking some sense into me: Tomorrow, I am SO cleaning this mofo. And then we can all frolic in here happily once again, without needing a stitch or a tetanus shot afterwards.