If you put a table in front of me, I will put something on it. What I put on the table is unimportant but fuck me I will put something on it. I have no idea why I do this and most of the time I don't even realise I am doing it until I look at the table full of bits and pieces of crap. Bits and pieces that were probably not even in my possession until a fucking table appears out of nowhere.
Not 20 minutes ago I moved a little table, that normally lives by the window, in front of me to write a birthday card. It had nothing on it 20 minutes ago. Now it has a laptop, 4 lighters, a mug of tea, 2 pens, 1 ashtray, 3 birthday cards, a shopping list, a packet of rolling papers, a mobile phone, and a roll of sellotape.
All that in 20 minutes. All without realising it.
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