lsanderson | Me! Me! Me!

I’ve heard it before, Dave, that the condition of a person’s physical workspace is a reflection of his mental one – in which case, I’m a walkin’ talkin’ junkyard. I can sit down at a clean desk to write a grocery list, and by the time I get up there’s the Sunday New York Times and an unabridged dictionary underneath a bushel of random pages. Where the fuck does it come from? Of course that’s my secret to making a living as a freelance writer; every Wednesday they back up a truck to my office window and I shovel out a few hundred pounds of waste paper to sell for salvage.

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