I threw myself in to cleaning out the storage area of my writing student's basement. Her mother doesn't quite get how very much hours of hard labor mean to me just now.

I have to admit, though, that I get a bit bossy whilst cleaning and organizing. Move this, get rid of that, stop what you are doing and do what I say. Follow my orders, and I will whip your space into shape is my motto. No stopping for breaks. Ignore the phone. Just get it done and you will thank me. It is an ugly, beautiful thing.

Of course, little does she know that my study floor is covered with papers that need filing. There is an ironing board in my living room that is covered with clothes that need ironing. I have stuff I have already brought home from work littering my table and need to find room for more.

Am I the kettle calling the pot black?