Clearly, Not a Universal Rule

October 9, 2012

I can't quite explain it.  There's a strange phemonon that occurs within my four walls.  Things multiply, expand.  For example, there'll be a couple of dirty dishes in the sink.  I'll walk out of the room and then come back in later for a snack, and suddenly, the pile of dishes looks something like this:

 While working to contain the mess in the kitchen, the laundry pile will suddenly start expanding from a couple of stray socks to this:

 Sigh.  Containment on the laundry issue is definitely a labor-intensive endeavor. When I'm finally finished, I find that the book pile in the study has managed to author several new novels, and they're strewn about everywhere, like this:

 While I reshelve the mountains of books, the seemingly never-ending supply of paperwork--children's artwork, essays to be graded, magazines and junk mail that make their way into the house, and of course, bills--grow into a nearly insurmountable obstacle:

 Why, oh why, does my oh so tiny pile of money not multiply like the rest of the objects in my house?