I’m the Queen of Priorities.

Have you ever wondered about the clutter on other people’s desks? Maybe they have unopened mail from a bank about an account they never wanted because that bank took over their former bank and when their original account at the former bank consequently ceased to exist they decided to open an account at an entirely different bank because now their bank has been taken over by another bank one time too many so the new bank that used to be their former bank can just go ahead and keep the 14 cents strategically left behind.

Maybe there’s this year’s planner and also a second one acquired by mistake that’s going to go unused if no one else wants it.

Maybe there’s a small, stitched patch, black with metallic silver embroidery, in the shape of a cat as a constellation in a night sky.

Maybe there’s a broken retractable-blade utility knife that has screws for reasons that aren’t discernable because the knife’s body remains intact and resistant to break-down when the screws are removed so the inside mechanisms can’t be cleaned and now it seems to be terminally bladeless and nothing online can explain it and no one at work can, either, and a replacement knife will be delivered today and it’s okay because the old knife was used daily and relentlessly for over a year and these things aren’t made to last forever if you pay so little for them.

Maybe there are five small neon-orange post-its with a note jotted on each: the name of a future black cat, a reminder of where the earbuds are stashed, a musician from the 70’s whose music will be sought out on Spotify, a reminder to write about the difference between hexes, curses, and jinxes, and the street names of a certain intersection in Berkeley.

Maybe there’s a tiny ceramic plant pot with a miniature cactus that could only be fake because it’s “planted” in a hardened glittery mass of fake soil, but then one day it was noticed that the fake cactus was dead, and the mystery of that is maddening.

Maybe there’s a small photo album holding photos of a desert tortoise with his human-reptile mommy taken by a friend who’s a talented photographer.

Maybe there are two manila folders called “taxes” and “mortgage” and it could be said that they’re on the desk because it’s that time of the year, but that wouldn’t be true because the folders have been there for six months pending investigation of matters whose relevancy has expired.

Maybe there’s a small remote control that turns on an electric fireplace.

Maybe there’s a black ink “confidential” roller stamp designed specifically to obscure sensitive information on papers destined for the recycling bin.

Maybe there’s a fabric-covered button that a cat pulled off of a colorful mandala meditation cushion.

Or a large reference book with spiritual correspondences.

Or a reference book with cosmic data.

Or an assortment of documents that need to be filed, including some that came in the mail and are still sealed in their envelopes because the same information can be seen online so why bother opening them.

Maybe there are sheets of return-address labels sent for free from charity organizations asking for further donations and their fate is unknown because they’re not needed due to a pre-existing collection of free return-address labels that already amount to more than can be used in a lifetime and they’re stickers so they can’t go in the recycling but they have personal information so they can’t go in the trash, either, so destruction by fire is being contemplated.

Maybe there are exactly four small dark-brown clip barrettes.

A rusty old steak knife long since used as a letter opener.

A check that was deposited via mobile app from the time the side-hustle client didn’t have the usual cash.

A spiral-bound notebook used partly as a journal and partly as a scribbled thinking and planning space.

An online shop’s business card sent with an appreciation discount code that’s already been used, and another one from a different online shop that hasn’t yet been used.

More documents that need to be filed.

Two larger post-it notes, neon-yellow, one with a list of names that needed remembering for a specific reason, and another with a list of topics that still need remembering for a different specific reason.

The small orange and large yellow post-it pads, themselves.

A reminder to purchase vegan Goli Ashwghanda gummies on Amazon as soon as credit for a recent return has been added to the account as a gift card.

Two crumpled receipts, one from a recent stop at Sprouts because only Sprouts has the Sprouts brand of pink Himalayan salt and coconut oil popcorn, and the other from Ulta because unlike Sephora, Ulta doesn’t cause claustrophobia-induced panic attacks.

A used sigil wheel.

A print-out of medical information that’s no longer needed because investigation into the condition has been going on for so long that its intrigue has disintegrated into nothingness.

A white marble drink coaster and a black beaded drink coaster adorned with silver moons and stars found on sale at Ross after Halloween because the best time to find deals on spooky things for use during the year is after the spooky holiday itself.

And a lot of dust.

Current desk clutter, not rearranged for the pic, left side only.

Maybe the person recently thoroughly cleaned their entire office EXCEPT for their desk. Perhaps they removed all of their plants and dusted and polished all of the surfaces and cleaned all of the objects, themselves; perhaps they triple-vacuumed the entire room and emptied, cleaned, and reorganized the bookshelves in the desk corner… then got to their desk and stopped.

Today I’m going to continue ignoring this mess because the only thing I want to do is binge the last four episodes of Archive 81 since I got too sleepy to continue it last night, and nothing bad will happen if I don’t deal with my desk today. But now I have shamed myself sufficiently by sharing it with you, and so it will be seen to sooner rather than later.

I hope you’re all having a divine moment, my friends. Blessings to you on the eve of the first full moon of the year! The Wolf moon is in Cancer, and we’re also on the verge of a Venus retrograde.

A wise elder witch – a close blood relation of mine – recently sent me a bracelet with tiny beads spelling out, in Morse code, “Do no harm but take no shit,” a good motto not only in the event of a Venus retrograde following a full moon in Cancer, but for life.

Until next time, then.

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