Glancing up, noticing piles of things everywhere.

A pile of exams, needing grading.

A pile of things brought in from the car after the Ithaca trip, not yet put away.

A pile of bills to pay.

Piles of papers on my desk, some of which need to be put in some permanent place and some thrown away. If I wait longer to deal with this, will that enable me to put more of the things in the trash?

Piles of books I've started to read. If I delay longer trying to finish them, won't it become easier to toss more of them aside as never deserving to be read through?

Piles of magazines I've subscribed to, received, and not even opened. And this includes The New Yorker, which you'd think would at least get paged through to read the cartoons.

Piles of books to sell off at Half-Price Books. Is it even worth the trip dragging them over there and waiting while they determine the price? The task will take an hour, and I'll be lucky to get $25 out of it. But I need a way to rid the house of accumulated rectangular objects.

A pile of dry cleanables. What is more boring and more irritatingly expensive than getting dry-clean-only things cleaned?

A pile of beautiful archival gallery frames for photographs, still wrapped, bought years ago, back before I even had a digital camera. And did you know I've never printed out a single one of the thousands of photographs I've taken with my digital camera, which I've had since March 2004?

A pile of boxes that need to be broken down and tied up for recycling. Piles of newspapers and catalogues that need to be put out for recycling. Next week! Even worse: piles of last years phone books. Can they please stop making phone books -- or at least stop handing them out to people who don't want them?

A pile of framed pictures, recovered from a house I took part in dismantling, after a death that took place years ago.

Piles of videotapes that I just want to throw away after checking to make sure there is nothing important somewhere in them. No movie on videotape, by the way, is important anymore. If it isn't on DVD, I'm never going to watch it.

Piles of 8 mm home movies from the 1950s and 60s, also from the dismantled house, that I was supposed to have transferred on to videotape for everyone's convenience, which I never did because I realized the transfer should be to digital, but that I've also never done.

Piles of CD cases and inserts from CD cases that accumulated when I put all the CDs into a 500 CD player -- years ago.

Piles of vinyl records, which I love, but almost never play.

Piles of foreign coins that are no longer even usable.

Piles of receipts and other papers that I would shred if I had a shredder.

Piles of dust in corners that I remember, but don't look at.

Piles of dishes that haven't been used in years but that take up space because I have a lot of cupboard space.

Piles of food boxes that are long past their sell-by date, that keep their permanent spots in my excessive cupboard space.

Piles of clothes that should be taken over to Goodwill, that are just aging slowly -- some for over 10 years -- in my oversized closet.

Well, maybe if you wouldn't blog so much, you'd have time to deal with the real world that is closing in on you and making you feel so uneasy.

Ah, but I love blogworld, where each day is a slate wiped clean! The archive is always neatly whisked away and always perfectly sorted into chronological order and retrievable, easily, at the push of a button.