Cleaning Up

I am in the office; Krissa is in the living room.

I am collapsing cardboard boxes, filing mail, packing away photograph albums; Krissa is on the phone.

I am sweeping the floor; Krissa is combing the Internet.

I am sipping cranberry juice left over from our cocktail party; Krissa is sucking pensively on a popsicle, her eyes are skimming across her screen.

I am collecting CDs which have fallen behind the desk; Krissa is putting together lists of phone numbers.

I am looking for a place to shove bought-in-bulk tennis balls; Krissa is looking for an old man.

I am cleaning the office; Krissa is searching for those lost in the wake of the hurricane.

And soon I will too.

It's another way you can help, people. It's Lifelist.