Controlled chaos. That was the phrase that hit your head the moment you looked at her desk. Order was there, but you would hard pressed to find it. She knew though. Every piece of paper. It may take her a couple of minutes to dig it out, flatten it out and hand it off, but she never lost anything. Sometimes, people would toss something on top of a stack of papers. She would know. She would pick it up and file it in the right corner of the heap before getting back to business. This desk was the nucleus of the office. Everyone feared that one day she would quit. Who would be able to discover her system and put things into some normal order. She feared the day one of the piles would decide to take her out and fall over, leaving her pinned under the weight of her work. This would, of course, happen on a night she was at the office late and alone. She requested and got a wireless keyboard and sat one foot outside of her cubicle. Her officemates passed quizzical glances. No one said anything.
I should clean up my desk soon.
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